Cap. 1.

THe Princesse Porphiria hauing taken no rest, since the day and houre when falslie the maide Dynamia, sister to Pharisor, and Amidrea who déerely loued him, notwith­standing shee receiuing no loue againe, came to informe her, how the Fayrie youth on whom she had fastened such ear­nest affection, as it was not possible for any King or Prince like him selfe, to be belooued of any Princesse, as he was of the Infant Porphiria: was slaine, with Pharisor, who had wun like conquest of the Uirgin Amidrea, and that the mur­derer was go [...]e to make his vaunt in the Emperour her fa­thers Court, of such a monstrous and vnhappie déed, clad in his Armour, and mounted on the good Knights horse that had vanquished the Giants, as is declared in the xvi. Chap­ter [Page] of the first Booke of this nistorie. After she had by insup­portable gréefe, swounded many times, she fell into an ex­treame burning feauer: as what with the violence therof, and her balefull passions of loue together, she had at this in­stant dyed, but that she was continually comforted by the Ladyes Harderina and Marcella, after that the Giant Ergo­ferant, who followed in quest of the vnknowne Knight, and hauing found him, brought him to the Emperours Court, where in eight dayes his wounds were healed. By meanes whereof, these Ladyes (who knew well the cause of the In­ [...]ants disease) perswaded her so much as they could: with this hope grounded in them, that the death of the Knight and Fayrie youth, was no more certaine or to be credited, then the report of Pharisor: And that the vnknowne Knight who rumourd foorth these tidings, had doone it but for the aduantage of his glorie, or to couer the dishonour he recei­ued in the Ioust: which made her somewhat to recomfort her selfe, so that (but for her feauer) she might easily haue recouered her former state of health.

But if she suffered such anguish for her friend, the Fairie youth endured no whit lesse for her, in that his loue tooke life at that instant, when she did him the honour to girde on his sword with her dellicate hands: but he fearing that their loues were not reciprocall, languished in selfe same fits as the Infant did, esteeming him selfe so vnfortunate and flenderlie fauoured by loue: that he thought their wounds to procéed from shafts of contrarie nature, whereby the cure of either would prooue as different. Thus did the fire search through the bone to the marrowe, and he was so distracted in himselfe (as hath béene toucht in the former Booke) as wandering from the care hee had to séeke the vnknowne Knight, to reue [...]ge the death of his good friend Pharicor: he now hath lost himselfe, in thinking and contemplating on that heauenly beautie, which lay neerest his hart, and aboue all things else he most prefered. So that in steed of taking [Page] the right way, for embarking himself so some strange coun­trey: hee returned with his Squire Geliaste towards the Cittie of Constantinople, imagining (neuerthelesse) that he rode farre enough from it. On the other side, the Princesse Porphiria was euen at deaths doore, for the loue of her knighth, and so farre extended each extremitie, as notwith­standing all soueraigne remedies appplyed, from one houre to another, a daungerous end was still expected.

The Emperour and Empresse were wonderfull gréeued at their daughters sicknes, not knowing whence the occasi­on thereof procéeded: and therefore wholy committed her to the care of Sagibell her Phisition, a man most expert and skilfull in the art of medicine. This Phisition was likewise greatly experimented in the art Magique, and the Prin­cesse of long time discerned in him very speciall affection and fidelitie towards her: wherefore among diuers contrarie opinions, which day and night combatted in her labouring thoughts, she imagined how to finde some ease for her afflic­tions, and sent for him by the Lady Marcella, who knewe much better then the phisition where the disease pained her, she beeing then to Harderina participating these secrets. Right prompt and readie was shee to obey the Princesse will, and suddenly went to finde this wise man, who was altogether confounded with greefe and pensiuenes, because he could not attaine the meane, whereby the faire Princes might recouer footing againe: for to her serui [...] he was in­tirelie affected, considering that all his happines depended on her safetie and health, and shee recured it would enrich him for euer: for the Emperour had promised him, that if by his skill he could restore his daughter, he would returne him such a recompence, as should both exalt and content him for euer. But without any such promise Sagibell was carefull enough of the Infants health, and failed not in his very vttermost endeuours: and Porphiria (for her part) was willing to bestowe on this skilfull man, what euer she might [Page] enioy by the Emperour and Empres, prouided, that her a­morous sicknes might finde desired recouerie. Wherevpon, Marcella hauing tould him the Princes would speake with him, and that with speed he should repaire to her chamber: without further questioning with the Lady, he went thither immediatly, not a little ioyfull of this message, which he ho­ped might presage some good to ensue, because hauing so lately left her, he was now so suddenly sent for. When Sa­gibell was come to her, he demanded how she felt her selfe: When the Princesse (breathing foorth a déepe fetcht sighe from the bottome of her hart) thus spake vnto him. Ah Sa­gibell, impossible is it I should be well, considering the e­state wherein I am, all your medicines and drugges ha­uing no abilitie to giue me my former strength, health and quietnes; yet notwithstanding, your knowledge might doe me great good seruice, if you were so pleased. Sagibell was not a little abashed at the woordes of the Princesse, and knew not what to coniecture of them, because they implyed such a contradiction: for she said all his medicines and drugs could not helpe her, and yet she might be highly benefited by his knowledge, which made him to returne this answere. Why Madame, doe you thinke I haue made spare of my knowledge, and that I haue not endeuoured my vttermost (according to Art) to set ye on your feet againe? Thereof I am perswaded my good friend Sagibell, quoth she, but your art of medicine is not auailable for me in this case: for were your God Appollo, Aesculapius, Hipocrates and Galen heere present to giue me remedie, yet could they vnderstand no more of my disease then you doo. But will yee promise to be faithfull and secret to me, as I did neuer yet finde yee o­therwise: and I shall acquaint yee with the cause and ori­ginall of my greefe, which when ye haue vnderstood, easily by your knowledge may the effect be taken away. The Phi­sition who was quick conceited, began to waxe iealous of the cause, gathering by hir wordes, that loue had made a [Page] great breach into her tender hart: yet making shewe as though he suspected no such matter, he sayd to the Princesse. Beléeue (good Madame) that I will be secret to yée, and con­tinue such fidelitie towards yée, as the Emperour your fa­ther and your selfe haue alwayes found in me. The Prin­cesse being in bed, caused her pillowes to be raysed, to the end shee might deliuer her minde with the more ease: and hauing heard the answer of her Phisition, with voice faint and weake, entermedled with a thousand sighes, shee thus began.

My sicknes is caused by the loue I beare to the fairie youth, if he liue not, then thinke a speedie end will deliuer me from this anguish: except you take pittie on mee, and succour me in other sort then as yet you haue done, I know you are skilfull in the Magique science, and that by Art you can let me sée him aliue or dead: he is the man, whose onely remembrance giues life and content to my amorous passi­ons. Then let me sée in what estate he is, for nothing else can ease my afflictions, and all remedies else are vtterlie in vaine, as by the applying and proofe you haue hitherto be­held. I had not knowne aboue fourtéene or fiftéene yeeres, when first his loue made seyzure on my hart, euen amongst the Ladyes of the Empresse my mother, where I was con­strained to swoune in the publique assemblie: he then that hath occasioned this hurt to me, can take it away and giue me helpe, but it consists in you to giue me some ease by your knowledge, in shewing me my friend aliue, wherein I de­sire to be resolued, because I stand in doubt he is dead. If I be assured of his end, then mine hath no long date of conti­nuance, so shall I bee freed from these extreame passions, which not alone wounds my hart, but deuides in sunder my very soule: leauing me so disconsolate, as but I was com­forted by one of my Ladyes, long since had I pass out of this miserable life into a better.

Sagibell hauing attentiuely heard the Princesse, thus [Page] answered. Madame you haue well séene my faithfull seruic [...] towards yee till this present, and be ye assured, that though it valued the price of my life, yet will I hazard all for the safetie of yours: for so must I confesse my selfe bound to do in dutie, in regard yee haue discouered to me such a secret, as neuer could be gathered by the rules of phisick, beside, the many honors doone me, in being toward the Emperour and you, commaunds me to do my vttermost for your good. Most gladly then doo I yeeld to satisfie you request, but perhaps it cannot be so soone as you would, because heere I may not make proofe of any such practise by arte, for feare of being discouered: it behooues vs then to finde out, a place more proper and conuenient, and it were not much amisse, the better to couller our enterprise, that the Emperour were giuen to vnderstand, that it is needefull for your health to change this ayre, otherwise your life will be in great ha­zard. As for the place, both faire, delightfull, and agreeing with your intent, choose the Castell of pleasure which the Emperour hath hard at hand: and there may yee commodi­ously without any suspition, haue knowledge of him you loue so deerely, and vnderstand likewise of whence he is.

The Princesse intreated him very earnestly that it might be so, and foorthwith to mooue the matter to the Em­perour: which he hauing effected, she would requite it with such liberalitie, as hee should haue cause to extoll his good fortune. The phi [...]ition hauing in this sort comforted her, and giuen her hope of knowing what most she desired: tooke his leaue, promising very quickly to returne againe, to tell her how he sped with the Emperour. Before whom when he was come, both he and the Empresse demanded of the phisition, the estate of Porphiria their daughter: when Sagi­bell answered, that he thought it méete she should change the ayre, to sée if that in any sort would amend her, for hee was of opinion, that the alteration of the ayre would do hir great good, and bring her to her former health and strength, [Page] next to the grace of God. And whither were it best (quoth the Emperour) she should be remooued? To some fayre and pleasant place, replied Sagibell, that her body finding ease by change of ayre, her eye might likewise bee delighted with pleasing obiects. It were good then (said the Emperour) to conuay her to my Castell néere at hand, which is seatedmer­uailous fitly for such a purpose. There cannot be (quoth Sa­gibell) a place more conuenable, but it were not expedient that any traine should accompanie her, for disquieting her head with goers and commers to speake with her: and I doubt not, but (by Gods helpe) you shall shortly see her as well and merrie as euer she was, albeit now she is more likely to die then liue. God prosper your attempt then (said the Emperour) and turning toward the Empresse, thus he proceeded. Do you (Madame) cause all her equipage to be prouided, and appoint such Ladyes for her companie as you shall thinke méete. In this time of their conference, Sagibell departed, and aduertised the princesse how he had sped, shew­ing likewise what resolution was set downe, to transport her to the place himselfe before had named. Whereof the princesse not a littlle ioyfull, though weake, yet hoping to receiue some comfort: intreated the phisition to hasten this iourney.

Sagibell was scant departed the princesse chamber, but the Empresse entred, hauing her eyes full of teares, and her hart cloyde with greefe, accompanyed with hir Ladyes and Gentlewomen, saying to hir daughter: that for recouerie of her health, it was thought expedient shee should change the ayre, and (it she were so pleased) she should be conducted to the Emperours Castell of pleasure, which was not farre without the Cittie of Constantinople. She answered with a spent and wearyed voyce, that she submitted her selfe to their good pleasures, and desired she might haue to kéepe hir companie, her Coosin Harderina and the Lady Marcella. You shall haue them (quoth the Empresse) with all things else [Page] shall stand with your liking: in meane while then bee of good cheere, that wee may [...]ee yée well againe, so soone as possible may be, if ye regard the ioy of the Emperour and mee.

Hauing spoken these words, the teares fell from her eyes in such aboundance, gréeuing to sée the faire princesse of the world in this weake estate: as being ouercome with sor­row, she was constrained to depart the chamber, not saying any thing, but that shee should rest her selfe awhile, and shee would go giue order for her departure. Which accordingly she did, and after all things were in a readinesse, the day be­ing still, calme and cléere, Sagibell aduised the Emperour and Empresse, that now the time serued most f [...]tly, for con­uaying the princesse to the place appointed: without making any longer stay, least any contrarie accident should happen, as [...]ight crosse theyr determination so sound and profita­ble. Wherefore the Empresse, with consent of the princesse Porphiria, (who was pale, wan, and consumed with greefe, as nothing was expected more then her [...]uriall, so woonder­fully was she weakened and changed, hauing lost hir ver­million blush, the life and essence of her diuine beautie, which made her loued and honoured of the most fayre and valiant Knight of the world, to wit, the man so farre re­newmed by Ozyris:) caused a Litter to be brought, couered with greene veluet, and lined all through within with the same, the nayles and frindges of bea [...]en gold, and the arches ouer head richly embolished: wherein was layd the langui­shing and amourous princesse, who séemed therein as a bright shining Sunne, such as chased Diana amongst the troope of hir fayre Nimphes, and therein was placed with hir Harderina, to entertaine the time of iourney with com­fortable spéeches. Each one may imagine (without any set­ting downe in writing) the wofull sighes and teares of the father and mother, and the generall lamentations on euery side at this departure, for they had neither heard or séene [Page] any cause of reioysing in long time before.

In this sort, and very well accompanied, especially with her phisition, she was conducted to a very faire and plea­sant Castell, which the Emperour had caused to bee built fiue or sixe miles from the Cittie of Constantinople, wher­in (because it was seated and builded so meruailous strong­lie) the Emperours treasure, riches, and most precious iew­els were kept. This Castell was erected very stately to be­holde, for the walles wherewith it was enui [...]oned, was of sto [...]e, so white as [...]ine Iuorie: the inclosures and base courts were on the one side guarded with the maine Sea, and on the other with ditches so large and deepe, as the space contained thrée quarters of a mile, rather more then lesse, so saith the Historian, that saw the measure thereof ta­ken by a Geomatrician of that time when it was made. It was bodyed with many beautifull lodgings, in goodly faire Towers and Turrets, euery chamber being in most swéete and wholsome ayre, and backt with sundrie galleries of all sorts and fashions, the couerings whereof were of lead, wrought and cut into many curidus deuises of workman­ship, hauing standing aloft thereon, fayre vaynes and wea­ther cocks of golde and siluer. The Gardens and Arbours were he [...]d in with swift runnings riuers and cleere foun­taines, and to say all in breefe, there wanted not any thing that could be imagined, both to strengthen the place, as also beseeming such a dain [...]ie compassed Castell. Heereinto was brought (by the councell of her phisition) the most faire princesse of the world, for more assured commoditie of knowing and seeing what she most desired, according to the promise of the wise Magitian: in whom she reposed very great hope and trust, and there happened to her what yee shall read heereafter, for now we must borrow a little leaue to speake of other matters.

Chap. 2.

I Haue héereto fore declared, as yee may read in the fourtéenth and sixtéenth chap­ters of the former Booke, that the great and puissant king of Persia, was won­derfully surprised with the loue of this faire princesse, whom because we so late­lie left, yee cannot easilie forget: and that by all meanes possible he could deuise, he sought how he might attaine her to be his wife. So that imagining the contrarietie of his religion, might yéeld some reason of hin­derance, he caused himselfe to be baptized, to the end all his people might become Christians, he sent for diuers diuines into Christendome, that they should come preach, and do all the other seruices of good and faithfull Christians in his [Page] kingdome. Notwithstanding this which he did was but counterfeit and dissimulation, that so (vnder this pretext) he might the more easilie induce the good Emperour of Con­stantinople father to the maide, without difficultie to grant his mariage. And to this end sent he messengers and am­bassadours expresselie to him, to vnderstand his pleasure, at­tending which time, transported with impatience of so long delay: one day he determined secretlie to depart him­selfe, that he might behold this so famous beautie, by whose picture (drawne to the life by some excellent painter of that time,) he had drunke this sweete sirrop of conceiued loue. And as he had suddenlie thus determined, as suddenlie did he put it in execution, not hauing any companie with him but a Squire of his owne, whose fidelitie he neuer called in question: to him he gaue his Helmet and Launce to beare, is Helmet (I say) which was beyond all other in temper and goodnes, hauing on the Creast thereof a bright shining Carbuncle, made in resemblance of the Sunne, which an hundred paces euery way about him, gaue in the night time such an exceeding cleerenes and light, as dooth the Moone when she is in hir fullest perfection. He sometimes wun it from a great and puissant king of Assiria, whome he had conquered in combate, that for the prize of victorie, had set his kingdome against a part of Persia: but after the con­quest, he released him, and in recompence of such wonderfull courtesie, the Ass [...]ian gaue him this Helmet, which he estée­med more then all his good. Héere vpon the Sophie did vsu­allie weare it, when he went in any notable or signall expe­dition, and especiallie when he had any occasion to trauaile by night about any affaires of importance, as this which now he had vndertaken: leauing his kingdome in weake and poore estate, through diuersitie of religions which there he suffered. And this oftentimes is cause of the intire ruine and desolation, of the very greatest Monarchies and com­mon-wealths, yet left he the rule to one of his bretheren, a [Page] young man, voyd of exper [...]nce in such high affayres. And albeit hee was apt to armes, and a good knight in triall of his person: yet had hee not sence and vnderstanding, to go­uerne the helme of so huge a vessell, as was the monarchie of Persia. Thus was the Sophie not assured of his suffien­cie, and but that his head was troubled with amorous con­ceits, he would not haue reposed any such trust in him: but let it be, he did it by indis [...]retion, or else for more assurance of his secret departure, not thinking his voyage would be so long as afterward it prooued, suffice it he did not wisely, as you shall perceiue by the discourse following in the historie.

Hauing committed this poore kinde of order to his very greatest affaires, he departed in equipage as ye haue heard, riding many dayes and nights together, vnder cléerenes of his meruailous shining helmet, without finding any aduen­ture worthy the writing, and passed thorow diuers Citties of his owne kingdom, vnknowne of any one, and made such quick expedition, as he came to the vtmost merge of Persia: where finding a Barque readie to depart, in few dayes hee landed in the desert of Arabia, and from thence by great trauayle, not without enduring sundrie hazards and per­rils on the way, he reached the countrey of Palestine, still carryed on with the inward remembrance of his loue, as he little regarded whether he rode right or wrong. Being thus arriued in this countrey, he entred into a Forrest thick be­set with trées, which contained many mi [...]es both in length and breadth, wherein he had not ridden any long while, but he met two pilgrimes conferring together: the one of them being young of age, and endued with very singuler beautie, for his haire was yellow like wyers of gold, and the prettie downe on his chéekes and chin was of the same couler, in his face like wise stood the liuely couler of the Rose: his sta­ture was neither great nor smal, but indifferent euery way: his broad ha [...] was garnished with Scallop shels round a­bout, and Medialles of gold and siluer, intermingled with [Page] little pilgrime stones of Iuorie very artificially framed: his Cassock and hose was of fine linnen cloth, and at his girdle hung a little bottle, wherein hee had both wine and water, according as he had occasion to vse them, and in his hand a staffe piked at both the ends. The other pilgrime was an old man, the haire of whose head and heard was of reddish couller, griz [...]led among with many white haires, his visage drie and withered, and tand with blacknesse almost like a Moore, flat nosed, the tooth standing in his head very vgly to behold, of very euill fauour was he and disposition: his sta­ture was grosse and short, big bulkt before downe to the girdle, and on his back arising mountaine: his garments were of old besmered lether, all ragged and torne, and his hat (in stéed of shels) was garnished with skales of some young Tortoise: his Medailles were of saffronned lead, where among stood little staues of the bones of dead beasts. The Sophie drawing néere them, saluted them very cour­teouslie, and addressing his spéech to the younger man, de­manded of whence he was, whether he went, and wherfore he was disguised in that sort, considering that his counte­nance deliuered him to be a man of other qualitie then his garments made shew of: and if I be not deceiued (sayd the Sophie) you are discended of some noble linage, and are a man likewise of no meane valour. Sir, answered the pil­grime, if ye will somewhat slack the pace of your horsse, and (withholding his bridle) make him goe according as we do, if likewise ye will vouchsafe such patience, as to heare my discorsiue answere to all your questions: I shall satisfie ye concerning the matters enquired, and beside acquaint yee with other things, whereat yee will not a little meruaile. Beléeue me, said the Persian king. I am very well conten­ted, and I thinke my horsse would gladly ease his pace a­while: then the pilgrime thus began. My Lord, because I perceiue both by your wordes and behauiour, that you are a man more accustomed to commaund then obey, [Page] I would intreat yee not to be offended, if talking familiar­lie with yee, perhaps I haue indiscréetly said, that to listen what I conceiue worthie of meruaile, you should enforce your Stéed to a more gentle pace, that happily would run so fast as he could, according to the weightie affaires of im­portance you goe about: which hardlie will permit yee to stay my discourse, being (in regard of your selfe) not so wor­thie hearing as I estéemed, but rather may yéeld yée more discontent then pleasure. If then I haue offended héerein, or shall do by ouer tedious circumstance: I beséech yee ima­gine I was not well aduised, which in respect of my submis­sion, may the more easily be pardoned. Well, well, quoth the king, vse no more words concerning me, but answere what I haue demanded: for were I not so desirous to knowe, I would not shew my selfe so inquisitiue, and if your discourse be worthie the hearing, as you haue sayd, it cannot be too long for me to listen, or displeasing any way, but verie ac­ceptable.

First then (quoth the Pilgrim) you must vnderstand, that albeit in this estate you behold me, yet am I discended of noble linage, for my father beares the title and crowne of a king, and my mother was sister to the puissant Emperour of Constantinople, a man that (for his manifold vertues) de­serueth to be highly estéemed and accounted of. In whose Court, both in my youngest age, and since the time of mine infancie, I was carefully nourished and brought vp: vntill the houre I receiued knighthood, which is no long time since. Notwithstanding, after I began to enterprise my first exploites of good or bad fortune, trusting more to the strength and dexteritie of my body, then reason would I should, for a proofe or triall what I could do: I was so har­die one day, to goe in person alone, to aduenture on the Den or Caue of Rock Alpine, and there assayled the horrible Gi­ants Ferclaste, Androfort and Ergoferant, by whome I was vanquished, and long time kept as prisoner there very mi­miserable. [Page] For after I had a great while endured the fight against Androfort, without suffering him to gaine the verie least aduantage ouer me: the cruell Ferclaste came treche­rously behinde me, and gaue me such a weightie blowe on my helmet, as layde mee well néere dead at his foote: and strange it was that he tooke not my life from me, as my o­uer much boldnesse had deserued. But as the Glead snat­cheth vp a Chicken in her talents, so almost dead, and with like facilitie, did he graspe me vp, carrieng me into a streict and darksome prison: where I endured such miserie and do­lor, as hardly could a humaine creature suffer the like, by reason of the woundes I had receiued in the fight, which with the hard enterteinment they gaue mee beside, (being bloodie enemies by nature, and men in whome no naturall compassion harboured) was insupportable. An hundred times they would haue put mee to death, if I had had an hundred liues for them to tirannise on, but that the remem­brance of the grace of God, and his sonne crucified for the redemption of man, on whom incessantly I euermore cal­led, was still my succour and comfort: and their brother Er­goferant, a man of more milde and gentle nature then the other were, did all that possibly hee might, to preserue mee from death. Neuerthelesse, the crueltie and rigor of the pri­son wherein I was so strictly detained, was such, as I knew not whether I liued or no: but the Almightie, in whome continually I trusted, taking compassion vpon my miserie, casting downe his eye of pittie, sent to deliuer mee out of this captiuitie, by an vnexpected helpe, as I shall declare vnto yée.

First giue me leaue to tell yee, that one (without the knowledge of any man) arriued in the great Emperours court of Constantinople, a young knight, so beautifull as an angell in all perfections: yet no one there knew him, ney­ther did himselfe know who were his parents, but sayd hee was sent thither by a Fairie named Ozyris, who from his [Page] infancie had nourished and brought him vp, likewise of her he receiued horsse, armour, and all things else beséeming a young gallant that sought the order of knighthood, without which it was not lawfull for any one to meddle with the search of aduentures, or to attempt exploits of armes and chiualrie, whereby renowme and honor was atchieued, and religiously obserued among the professors thereof. I will not trifle time with particuler discourse, how well shaped, lustie, and faire his horsse was, caparasonned so rich and cost­ly, as all the beholders much admired thereat: it shall suf­fice in one word to tell yee, that neuer was séene in the time of our memorie, a young man, who in countenance, aspect, and assured behauiour, could promise more louely déedes of armes, and galliardise of person, then he did: nor was there any one, whose eyes could be glutted, or hart satisfied with looking on him, imagining that hee was sent from heauen by the grace of God, to do some act of memorie for the bene­fit of the Empire, as it was not long before it came so to passe. For he who by the aduise of the Fairie was thus sent to the court, to require of the Emperor his order of knight­hood, after he had humbly intreated it at his hand: with great honor was it giuen him, and all the worthie obserua­tions thereto belonging, the most diuine and faire princesse Porphiria, daughter to the Emperour, girding on his sword: in the dooing whereof (a thing worthie noting) the sweete Roseate rednesse in her chéekes, suddenlie changed to such a liuely vermillion hew, that they which before imagined no addition could bee made to make her more beautifull, be­cause she contained such an absolute perfection, by this effect were drawne to a quite contrary opinion. For she séemed such as the Knight himselfe did, vpon whose front sat an as­sured boldnesse, with a countenance immooueable, blandi­shed with such a swéete grauitie, as if some alteration had suddenly entred his thoughts, and that present affection had surprised him, which (as I learned of such, who take héedfull [Page] regard in like occasion, and therefore marked this the more na [...]rowly) proued so in deede. The morrow after this young youth was made knight, for proofe of the exteriour valour that seemed to be in him, the Emperour feasting and enter­teining him accordinglie: gaue him to vnderstand of the manstrous and inhumaine giants Ferclaste and Androfort, who too much iniured and oppressed the whole countrey. This hardie new knight, presently determined so go com­bat [...] with them, desiring to atchieue by the price of his blood and perrill of his life such immortall praise: withall, to ex­presse his thankfulnesse to the Emperour, for the great ho­nor he had doone him, whereto he was bound by all meanes possible he could deuise: not being ignorant I warrant ye, that the power of a mightie enemie was not so much to be feared, as the fauour of so great a personage was to be che­rished and maintayned.

Being then secretly departed from the Courte, to put in execution this faire enterprise, such was his happie for­tune, after a long, doubtfull and dangerous fight, wherein he endured more paine then I am able to rehearse: that he got the victorie of the Giants, killing two of them, and the third he tooke to mercie. This déed which I haue discour­sed to ye, was of greatest honor that euer was heard of in our time: and the Emperour hearing thereof, was driuen to no little admiration, especially when hee vnderstood the certaine trueth in deed. It is reported, that these newes be­ing blazed abroad in sundry countries, as indéed they were in mo [...] knowne places of the world: that the great Sea it selfe was sore troubled, and the greatest part of the forrest of Ardene was distraunched, and the rest of the Trees stood halfe rent in sunder, without any honour of their former verdure. The great flood of Egipt ouerflowed the banckes, and left the common course where it was wunt to glide, being so furious and outragious: as the people of Egipt were more then halfe part drowned, and the whole land so [Page] couered with water, as many were forced to endure famish­ment, others (with conceit of greefe) dyed presently. For my selfe, I can hardly be drawne to credit these reports, because such insensible things cannot be mooued by any so great a meruaile: I rather coniecture, that this came from some Poets of those times, who (as Painters doo take an auda­tious licence, to iustifie by their writing and painting what neuer was) to make the more ample discourse of this déed so full of admiration, did set downe the historie in this man­ner.

But howsoeuer it was, to come againe to my purpose, I know it well, and that for a certaintie, that the knight ha­uing vanquished the Giants, and annihillated all their for­ces, that he came to deliuer me out of that accursed prison, wherein I had beene so long time enthralled. And when hee vnderstood that I was named Pharisor, a knight of some fame, and Nephew to the Emperour: most kindely hee came and embraced me, suffering mee to doo the like to him, by whom I had receiued so great a benefit. Then began I to remember (according as I had often times heard talked of before, and that by no meane personages in times past,) that we should account the day of our desiuerance from any mi­serable bondage, much more happie then the daye when first we were borne into this world: because from the day of our birth, we g [...] on still forward into diuersitie of misfor­tunes, but on the day of our deliuerie, wee were restored from such a feare, as we neuer need to stand in doubt of any more: thus are we no lesse bound to the cause of our deli­uerance, then to our parents from whom wee receiue life. And beere vpon wee contracted together such an intire l [...]agne of amitie, as death should not seperate or extinct our affections: nor was the loue of the valorous Achilles to Patroclus, Nysus to Eurialus, or Pylades to Or [...]stes, worthy to be compared with my affection to him. For albeit by vngen­tle fortune wee are sundered the one from the other, the [Page] greefe and sadnesse I endure for his absence, hath constrai­ned me to disguise my selfe in these habillements as yee sée, thus barefooted as I am, to goe and visit the holy Sepul­thre, wherein was buryed the precious body of the redee­mer of the world: to which place I am bound, by a solemne vowe long since made, to giue him hartie thankes for my deliuerance, and with great deuotion and humilitie to in­treat, that it would please him I might soone recouer and sée againe my true Achilles: to whom I owe not onely this office of freendship, but an hundred liues if possiblie I could haue so many, and this I doubt not but hee will permit me.

As thus the young Pilgrime continued his discourse on the way, they came to a place in the Forrest which was ve­ry spatious and plaine, in the midst whereof stood a great thicket of meruailous high trees: and there they heard such a clanching of swordes vppon armour, as all the whole forrest ecchoed therewith, which caused the Sophie and the young pilgrime direct their course thither ward, to see what it was: but as for the olde pilgrime, so soone as hee heard the noyse, he set foote forward more speedie then the winde, to seeke some corner where he might hide him. And there will wee leaue him, and proceed with the Sophie and the young pilgrime: what happened to them shall bee declared in the other chapter, for in this hath beene sufficient said al­readie.

Cap. 3.

THe great King of Persia being come first to the plaine, where the noyse caused him forsake his way, to know the occasion of that hurly burly: beheld two Knights, of more then common stature, being armed capape, who fought very violently toge­ther, to sley each other. The one of them was more mightie of body then the other, because hee was of monstrous and Giantlike composition: but in dexteritie of armes and valour of courage, he went not so farre beyond his enemie, but that the greater part of the day was spent, yet little aduantage was gained on eyther side. For if the Giants shield were battered in pieces, his body wounded, and his strength much diminished: the knight with whom he dealt had likewise his armour sore mangled, and his bo­die iniured in many places, from whence the bloud issued in great aboundance, and at the time of the Persians arriuall there, they were vpon the point to pause a breathing while, [Page] being vnable to withstand each other any longer, so were they ouertrauailed with a sharpe and dangerous conflict, which as it had▪ so was it still to continue betweene them. The Sophie, without enquiring the cause of their debate, or speaking any word to the knights (for he was meruay­lous proud and arrogant) allighted from his horsse in great hast, and went to vntie a goodlie faire horsse, which he saw bound to a tree with great chaines of [...]ron: but as he was about to do it, being somewhat to néere the horsse, he smote him such a violent stroke with his héele vpon the shéeld, as made him tumble along so amazedly, that hee lay a good while ere he could recouer himselfe againe: and had not his sheeld beene of some temper indéed, he had not liued to com­plaine of his hurt. But the goodnes of the mettall saued his life for this once, when being risen againe from his asto­nishment, he would not desist from his former en [...]erprise, which was to take and beare the horsse, that so highly liked him: as well for the beautie and likelihood of goodnes to be in him, as also for the necessitie he was in of one at that time, his owne horsse being ouer much wearyed with tra­uaile. When the two Combattants perceiued what he in­tended, they cryed to him, that he could not carry thence the horsse so easily, without buying him more dearly with the price of the combate: and that if he did not forbeare and let the horsse alone, he should by them be well beaten, as his boldnes did deserue no lesse.

The King of Persia hearing these hardie menaces, was enraged with such choller, that hauing fastened his Hel­met on his head, and gotten his sword in his hand [...] he made presently toward them, with resolution to deale with them both, striking first at the Giants legge with such force, as if he had not quickly clapt his shéeld before, he had cut it quite off at that blowe: But the Giant who was readie at armes, as any man of his qualitie in those times, to defend this stroake thrust forward his shéeld, the greater part whereof [Page] was pared away with the blowe, and laide on the ground, which the other knight perceiuing to whome the Persian addressed him selfe, aiming at a part of his body, which he sawe was bare by losse of some of his armour: but he esca­ping the thrust, gaue the Sophie such a mightie stroke on the Creast, as had it beene any other Helmet, beside this meruailous one and not to bee equalled, as before I haue told ye: he had cleft his head downe to the shoulders, but of such soundnesse was the helmet, as certaine sparkes of fire issued thereout, not receiuing anye other harme by the stroke, whereat the Giant not a little enraged, sayd, that to him alone appertained the chastising of the Persian king, and not to any other: because he had receiued the first stroke at his hands, and besides, himselfe was the more able man for the combate. Likewise, quoth the Giant, to mee be­longeth the defence of the horsse, and not to thee, as thou knowest well enough, and better can I maintaine the fight then thou, as the dealing betweene vs twaine hath well giuen thée to vnderstand, and would I haue vsed my vtter­most forces against thée, I néeded not haue wasted so much time in vaine, for long ere this our strife had beene ended. Now because I perceiue there is some more valour in th [...] then in him, I am willing to spare thee so much as possible I may: wherein (notwithstanding) I would not haue thee ouerweene thy selfe, in presuming to impeach me, when I shall chasten this rusticall fellow, who thus ventured to trouble vs, when I was vpon the point of giuing end to our strife, and thylife together: whereto the knight Comba­tant thus replyed.

I know well Giant, that commonly the people of thy sorte are mightie and strong, by reason of theyr great­nesse beyond other men: but withall, they haue much lesse courage, valour and vertue, then presumption and ar­rogancie, as at this present I may gather by thy wordes which I finde to be more hautie and proud, then either thy [Page] strength or dexteritie to armes is, albeit (without shew of fainting) thou hast doone thy best to vanquish me, and neuer dealt I with any one, that held me harder tack then thou hast doone, since the beginning of our combate, at the end wher­of I am certainlie perswaded, that I shall remaine the con­querour: as long ere this I had beene, if this knight had not béene our hinderance. And therefore the correcting of him appertaineth to me, and not thée, as hauing more right to the horsse, the shéeld, and the Cup, the prizes of our combate, then thou hast: thou oughtest therefore to with­draw thy selfe, and leaue the fight alone to me, otherwise I shall be enforced to set my selfe against thée with him, there­by to offend thée the more. Much rather had I a thousand times (answered the Giant) to fight against ten such as thou art, then to giue thée such an aduantage: such is the small estéeme I make of thée. These words were no sooner ended, but the Sophie and the knight ran both vpon the Giant: the one to hinder him from dealing alone with the Sophie, and the other to beare away the horse, and alay the pride of the Giant.

Soone after, the Sophie and the Giant (for the same intent) put them selues against the knight, and imme­diatly (without kéeping any order among them) the Gi­ant and the knight fought against the Sophie: by meanes whereof, the combate was of as long continuance as disor­der betwéene them, which was very pernicious and dange­rous for them, had it not béene that the young pilgrime, who but newly arriued there vpon this confused bickering, and séeing such an vnruly manner of fight, as in all his lyfe time hee had not séene the like, sharpe, rigorous, and cruell, on each side, and one or other must in the end beare away the woorst: he aduentured to seperate them with his staffe, but the blowes fell so thick, that it was quickly cut in thrée péeces, which when hee sawe, and doubting greater harme might happen to him: hee was enforced to keepe aloo [...]e, [Page] and stand as a beholder of this cruell combate. Long conti­nued this reasonlesse fight, h [...]e not being able to iudge who had the better: sauing that the Sophie séemed more fresh and lesse we aryed then the other, but at length, with the consent of the Sophie, who had as then least need of all, they sundred themselues to breath a while, when the young Pil­grime thus bespake them.

My Lords, it were a great losse, if thrée such knights of so great valour, and endued with hautie resolution, as I per­ceiue you all are, that it may be iudged your equals liue not in the world: should perish so miserablie, as I know you cannot but finish your dayes in this combate begun, onely through want of due order to be obserued among ye, follow­ing such reasonable connsell and aduise, as might be giuen yée. Already haue you spent most part of the day, yet no one of yée can certainly make vaunt of any aduantage ouer his enemie: neither (for ought I perceiue) dooth any one of yée know which is his aduersarie, nor against whom he ought especially to direct himselfe: for sometimes two beares themselues against one, and then that one ioynes with one of the two against the third: in continuance of which most kinde of fight, it cannot be but all thrée at the last will mise­rablie end their liues: so that no man shall be able so say which is the conquerour, or who beares away the honor of the combate, whereby your intent was to merit commen­dation: but now on the contrary yee shall get no praise at all▪ but rather bee esteemed as insensible and misgouerned, whereas well yee wot, that reputation and accompt is the principall guerdon of noble and valiant knights, that make profession of armes. Thus shall your parents if ye haue any be gréeued, your freends will be waile your mishaps, and your country, that challengeth your vttermost endeuours, will lament your wilfull losse, beside the sorrow of such as in distresse receiue succour by vertuous knights. Rather should each of yée take one of those launces that leanes against [Page] yonder Tree, and trie the fortune of the Ioust one after an­other, till it may bee séene which shall bee dismounted, and then to pursue the combate afterward, when the third may aduenture as he sees occasion. Thus shall the victor be dis­cerned, and who is woorthie the honor of the field, when hee that paused while the other fought, may enter the Lists a­gainst the conquerour: but if yee continue in this order ye haue begun, the greater will be your daunger, and all three will foyle themselues thorow choller and ouer-weening.

Thus spake the Pilgrime, and the Combattants (after they had rested a while) creditting his councell, and liking well of his aduise: tooke each of them a Launce, and moun­ted on their horsses to begin the Ioust, whereto the readiest were the Giant and the knight, against whom he fought be­fore the comming of the Sophie, who could not so soone re­couer his horsse, because he had strayed aside, and was gra­sing alone by himselfe in the Forrest. In meane while these two ran fiercely against each other with their Launces, and met together with such [...]urie, as when two billowes of the sea méet violently, when the winde carryeth them contrary to their course, and then breakes them aloft in the ayre with a most terrible murmour. The Launces being shiuered in a thousand pieces, flew like a fire thorow the ayre, and theyr horses being shrewdly hurt with méeting their shoulders to­gether, brake their girts, cruppers, and their other capari­sons, and tombled along on the ground with their maisters, each hauing the saddle betwéene his legs: making such a terrible noyse with the fall, as the ground trembled and shooke more then a mile about the place: and they, hauing theyr Shéeldes battered, and theyr sides mortally wounded, lay in a traunce vpon the earth, without moouing either hand or foote, but as though the life and soule were parted in sunder. Whereat the Sophie abashed, began not a lit­tle to meruayle, [...]hauing stoode a good while wayting when the one or other would ryse and vrge the combate: [Page] and séeing neither of them stirre, he ran to the place where the horsse was tyed, which they combatted for. But séeing he was not there, and could not tell what was become of his Squire likewise, he followed a path that led further into the Forrest, which when he had trackt a long time, not mée­ting any one, it happened to him as you shall heare in the Chapter following.

Chap. 4.

NOw began it to were darke, and the heauens being couered with obscure clowdes, declared to humaine [Page] creatures, that the houre of their rest drew neere: when the great king of Persia, hauing long sought the proud and goodly horse Lycocephall, and perceiuing that he could not finde him, determined to passe that night vnder a Trée in the Forrest, for hee was so tyred and wearyed with going on foote, that he could hold out no longer.

Beeing thus armed as he was, and couched on the gréene grasse, he had not line there any long while, but hee heard a feeble voyce, which he gathered to be the voyce of a woman, lamenting very gréeuouslie, vsing these or the like kinde of speeches. Alas most miserable that I am, in what place or part of this darke vast Forrest may I méet with him, whose absence brings to my desires more obscure gréefes and an­guishes: then this black comfortlesse night, or this place so hideoue presents to mine eyes. Alas thou hardie and vali­ant knight, the most faire and agréeable to my heart that the earth beares: in what nooke art thou hidden that I should not sée thée? I haue the eyes of my remembrance so open, as all the obscuritie of this night cannot hinder me, but that I could and can behold thy image and resemblance before me: but to touch and hold thee according as I wish, my misfortune and thy crueltie dooth forbid me. Aye me, if heeretofore when thou soughtest for me, I was any thing offensiue to thée: pardon me I intreat thée. Pardon me (O Loue) thou mightie God of heauen, if in thus dooing I haue offended thy maiestie, that now I should bee woorthie of so seuere punishment. Tell mee faire horsse, tell mee I pray thée, where hast thou left thy noble maister? I am deceiued if thou be not the beast he so highly estéemeth, and on whom he was mounted the last time I sawe him. How happens it that thou art thus strayed from him? and what is the cause thou hast forsaken him? But foolish that I am, speake I not to a beast, which hath no more habilitie to answer me then hee who is not present whome I so dearely looue? O vnkinde, peruerse, and detestable fortune. O vnhappie [Page] Lucinda, what deitie hath coniured against thee, to make thée so miserable: as hee that looued thée when thou didst disdaine him, should now hate when thou féelest & estéemest more of him then thine owne selfe, thine eyes, or thy heart? Ah Lucinda, mischaunce follow thée Lucinda, a Princesse most vnluckie and vnfortunate, thy mishap may well befall thy freend, because he flyes from thée now when thou séekest him. These lamentations in such sort pronounced, as if they had beene vttered out of the hollow of a Rock: or the strokes vpon an Anuile: that euen as the fire softneth waxe, so must it haue beene some Hircanian Tigar, or some vnna­turall deuouring Lionnesse, but would therewith be moo­ued to pittie. But the Sophie, who was so proud and arro­gant as possible might be, was not any thing mooued at all: but hauing by the cleere light of his Helmet discouered a young beautifull damosell, that held the goodly horsse by the bridle, went presently to her, and giuing her a rude thrust, tooke awaye the horsse from her: whereon being quickly monnted, he rode to séeke his Squire, and the waye which guided him the day before. And riding part of the night by his lightsome Helmet, by this rough encounter and vnmanly iniurie, the damosell remained greatly asto­nished: yet recouering courage and spirit, she followed him, and a hundred times she called him théefe, robber, and dis­courteous knight, vnwoorthie to ride on such a horsse, or e­uer thencefoorth to weare armour on his body. And hauing breathed foorth a thousand such like hatefull spéeches a­gainst him. Canst thou (quoth she) inhumaine as thou art, thus vndeseruedly wrong me? thou maist liue to sée the day, that thy Lady shall despise thy teares and intreats, as now thou disdaynest and makest small account of mine: and let a more cruell shaft, then euer Cupid bare in his Quiuer, wound thée thorowly, to bring thée into the middest of most violent flames, and then vtterly to consume thée to cinders. But of all these spéeches the Sophie made no reckoning, [Page] but held on his way, as I told [...]ee before, where we will leaue him, and the disconsolate Lady in the Forrest: whose mishap may well serue as an example to young damosels, that beeing sometime beloued with true and sincere affec­tion, hold such kindnes in contempt, and oftentimes make scorne of men of great valour, who merit better fauours then hatred and disdaine: which in the end they knowe so well how to reuenge, as they shall repent and bemoue their estates more miserablie, then did this Princesse, of whom we haue made mention in the former Booke, and whom ye now behold consounded with folly, discheneled running a­bout the fields, hauing forsaken the king of high Misia her father, to meet the strong and puissant Giant Squamell: who thus badly recompenced the seruices she did him, by mani­fold hazards wherein shee aduentured her life, onely for his looue. Let Ladyes then bee carefull, least they fall into any such inconuenience, and so making like proofe, there ensue like punishment: for they are better taught, that learne to be wise by others harmes, then they that fetch wisedome out of their owne follies. So comming againe to our historie, we will speake of the two knights, whome wee left halfe wounded to death in the Forrest.

The Historie speaking of them, saith, that they both reui­ued from their traunce, the one so soone as the other, and that the Giant was he who first espyed the Sophie to be gon, ha­uing caried away the horsse with him: wherefore all woun­ded as he was, he ran presently (as he had béene mad) into the Forrest, wherein when hee was but a little entred, hee met the old pilgrime wee spake of before, who ran thither to hide himselfe, when hee heard the noyse of the combate be­twéene the Giant and the Knight. This was an old Ne­cromancer, that could foretell to passengers their good and euill fortune to come, and knew by the lineature of theyr handes, till what age they should liue, and what day, what houre, by what aduenture, and howe they should dye. [Page] He knew by heart all the bookes of the Sibelles, of Circes, of Medea, of all the old liuing Magitians, and the Magitians of former times. And because he knew that the Fairie O­zyris was his aduersaire, and the greatest enemie in the world to his charmes and enchantments, likewise that she had greater skill and knowledge then he, and specially that for his ruine, and such as he loued, she had nourished the on­lie knight the cause of our historie: he had opposed by an an­ticharme this strong Giant Squamell and his brother, who by theyr owne nature were endued with most high prow­esse: yet notwithstanding by deuillish subtiltie hee preser­ued them still from death, and to them oft times he gaue ad­mirable and supernaturall strength. So that knowing him to be in quest of his horse, his shéeld, and other aduentures, and chéefely, that he earnestly desired to haue the enchaun­ted Cup, whereof he sometime had heard great report: hee had put them all into the custodie of this strong Giant, ha­uing withall incited and perswaded him in a dreame, that he should combate against the most puissant knight on the earth, and so set downe (as prizes for the conquerour) the sheeld, the horse, and the Cup, whereof wee haue spoken. Heereupon hee should holde open Ioust to all commers and goers in the Forrest, causing the Forrest to bee commonly called The Forrest of great Aduentures: and alreadie had he performed many fayre exploits, by meanes whereof he was much renowmed thorow the world, and very [...]arre were his deedes talked of: wherevpon the knight (so hardly hand­led) came to combate with him, of whom heereafter we will speake more liberallie, as also by what aduenture, and for what reason he was thither conducted.

But now let vs a little while speake of the Giant, who séeing the olde man, of whome hee had no more knowledge then if hee had neuer seene him: because hee could disguise himselfe in diuers sortes, as now he did in the habit of a pil­grime, to deceiue such great numbers as passed that waye, [Page] and as he had deceiued Pharisor, if the meeting of the Sophie had not preuented it. The Giant at the first sight of him began to be somewhat afrayd, seeing him looke so vgly and hidious: but the old Enchanter that very well knew him, began to reason after this manner.

Most generous and puissant knight, as this day liueth not thy like vnder heauen, who now being mortally woun­ded doost trauerse this darke forrest of high aduentures: stay thy selfe, and forbeare (if thou be wise) to run thus as thou doost, to finde and recouer what the destinies will not permit thée as yet. And if thou art not enemie to thy selfe, but hast regard of thine owne life, heare and credit my coun­cell, and doo as I shall presently direct thée: concerning what I say vnto thée, who I am, and for what cause I am so carefull of thée, the effect shall acquaint thee withall. Know then that I am the old and auncient Necromancian Charonifer, father to great Minofoll, of whom (it may bee) thou hast sometime heard some spéech: such as thou nowe seestmee, haue I liued and reigned more than a thousand yeeres. It is in my power to make the black night a fayre and bright day, and the fairest day againe to make the most darkesome night. I can make the Moone and all the starres to discend from heauen downe to the earth, by my charmes and enchauntments: but a woman of great wisedome of­tentimes hinders me from dooing what I would. Iknew thy graundfathers, who were great kings and Monarches on the earth. I haue seene to my ioy, the mightie Horfella thy mother, who (in her life time) was very deere to me, and whome I looued as mine owne life: for of thy forefathers and great vnckles did I receiue my first nourriture, and was brought vp from my very youngest yeeres: in recom­pence whereof, I haue euermore cherished and looued such as were discended of them, especially thee and thy brother Nabot, whom I esteeme as much as thee, you twaine bee­ing the most hardie and valiant of all your linage and race. [Page] So that for your aduancement, I haue dayly preserued yee from infinite perrils and [...]ortall dangers, whereinto (ac­cording to your destinies) you were readie to fall: but by mine arte I haue preuented all inconueniences, which I perceiued were threatned against yée. And namely, let me remember thée of the deuillish spirits that were in the Ca­stell of the Enchanteresse Melanda, which could not be cha­sed thence but by one of the best knights in the world: like­wise the Combate thou hadst with them, by commaunde­ment of the Lady whom thou seruest: then maist thou like­wise bee mindfull, of the great sorrowe and vexation thou wert to endure, before thou couldst vanquish them, and from which (for [...]ertaine) thou couldst not haue escaped without death, but onely by mine arte and by my meanes, which succoured and defended thee: for there did I so handle the matter, that in the end thou didst obtaine the victorie, as thy selfe doost very well knowe: and nowe againe thou art in farre greater daunger of death, if thou doost not as I shall say vnto thee.

Goe then and follow the path which now thou treadest, thorow the forrest, vntill that hauing many times turned by my circle, made in manner and forme of a Laborynth, thou perceiuest thy selfe to be in the middest thereof, where thou shalt see a great Trée, straite as any Ceder, which ne­uer had braunches, leaues, nor fruite, since first it sprang from out the earth. In that tree thou shalt behold a doore open, which notwithstanding is now so fast shut, as no one can discerne that euer it hath beene opened, neither shall such as come néere it, sée it, except it please me: those onely whome I will, shall perceiue it, but others that by chaunce light vppon it, shall imagine it to bee a huge great Rock, wherein is a strong Caue, full of Lyons, Tigars, Beares, and other sauage and cruell beasts. But see that boldly thou enter thereinto, and discend lowe vnder the earth by cer­taine stayres, which thou shalt finde made expressely for this [Page] cause: and when thou art discended an indifferent waye, thou shalt finde a floud, the water whereof runneth so vi­olently, as the flood is very fearefull to behold. Uppon this water thou shalt sée a black Barque, furnished with oares and sayles, necessarie for conueyance to the place where I make my continuall abiding. Enter boldly into the vessell, enter as thou art, without dread of any thing, and coutch­ing thy selfe therein, keeping thy selfe alwayes beneath, and thy mouth fast closed, remooue not at all: for from thence vppon the flood (which continually runneth downe­wards) shalt thou bee brought to a place, where thou shalt receiue helpe for thy mortall woundes, for in very déed thou art somewhat daungerouslie wounded. Afterward thou shalt be aduertised what is expedient for thée to doo, to me­rit glorie and reputation among the Gods, that make their aboad in the inferiour part of the world: and if thou doost other wise then as I haue tolde thee, thou canst not any way escape the death.

If the Giant were amazed at the first beholding of this olde man, no doubt hee was much more now, hearing his wordes, and yet was it more meruaylous then all the rest, that when he had concluded his spéech, there appeared in his place a flame of fire, which béeing conuerted into smoake, was carryed héere and there thorow the ayre, without ap­pearance left of any other thing, which caused the Giant to stand along while pensiue, without aduenturing on any re­solution an indifferent space: but after hee had considered with himselfe the wordes of the old Magitian, he gaue credit to them, and determined to do as he had willed him, by rea­son that the losse of his bloud from foorth his wounds, made him feele his strength to diminish very much, and a very great weaknesse conquer all his body. In this determinati­on he put himselfe vppon the way, to finde the Tree where­of the olde man had tolde him: in which searche wee will leaue him, to speake of the other knight so cruelly wounded. [Page] He (as writes the Historian) being come to himselfe againe so soone as the Giant, could not yet arise so readily, for hee was of a more weake and soft complexion. Which Pharisor (who had béeneah eye witnesse of their encountring) be­holding, went to him, and hauing vnlaced his Helmet, saw that his visage, which naturally was faire: was now so spent and discoulloured, as one could perceiue nothing of his wunted perfection. Héereat he began to greeue, for hee was of good nature, very pittifull and succourable to the af­flicted, and séeing the knight complained verye much of his woundes, which made him now feele a dangerous and mor­tall anguish: he began to comfort him so well as possiblie he could. And séeing that still his bloud wasted in great aboun­danc [...], he despoyled himselfe of his shirt, which was so whit [...] as hart could wish: and hauing torne it in p [...]eces, ther with he bound vp his wounds very handsomly. When the knight féeling more ease then he did before, and that his vigour in better sort encreased: he intreated to be mounted vppon his horsse, which he did by the helpe of Pharisor, who leading the horsse by the bridle, guided him by sundry pathes thorow the Forrest, séeking where he might finde any village or house, or any one that knew howe to cure the knights woundes: with kinde comfortings and other fréendly spéeches, he thus conducted him along the forrest, when the night being spent at their entrance thereout, they came to a very great cham­pion plaine: when the auaunt courrer or messenger of the day, began to s [...]ew his Christalline beautie [...] thorow his sil­uer locks, whence soone after followed the bright splendour of the goulden Sun. Then can they discerne a farre of in this desert, a smoake that séemed to come from the Chimney of some house: which made the fayre pilgrime to guide the horsse that way. But hee had not gon much ground, till hee sawe the Knight giue a signe of falling from his horse, for he was suddenly surprised with the trembling fit of an ex­treame ag [...], caused thorow the deadly pain of his wounds: [Page] which beeing vnbound for ease, let the bloud againe issue foorth, as thor [...]w pipes or gutte [...]s. This was no little gréefe to the pilgrime, who tooke him from his horse in his armes, when setting him to the grounde, the knight began to swoune againe: wherewith Pharisor was so troubled, as fearing he was néere his death, hee layde him along on the the grasse, and bound againe his wide gaping woundes. Then taking him in his armes, hee got vp on the Knights horse, and so caryed him before him ouerthwart the saddle: and hauing long ridden that way as he beheld the smoake, there ensued as you shall heare in the following chapter.

Chap. 5.

PHarisor the fayre Pilgrime, so long, and by so many sundry pathes in the desert, con­ducted (in sort as yee haue read in the for­mer Chapter) the halfe dead body of the hardie and vertuous knight: that about the houre of mid-day hee discouered the place, whence he saw the smoke to ascend [...]oorth. Thither hasted hee with all the speed hee could vse, [Page] hoping in that place to méete with some one that could giue remedie to the knights wounds: for very great care he had of him, because of the bountie and valour he had discerned in him. But drawing néerer to this long expected place, hee thought his hope would be deceiued, by reason he sawe it to be but a little lodging, couered with Reedes and Rushes, in which he could not be perswaded to finde what he would. This made him halfe minded to change his way to some o­ther part, yet something still houered about his heart, that hee should venture to continue on his waye, and sée what might be doone in this little [...]lender habitation, builded in a desert so barren, for some vnlooked for body might (perhaps) abide there. Resoluing thus, he discended from the horse, and brought the knights body before the doore of the house, which hauing thrust open, he saw an olde man, with his head and beard as white as snowe, sitting before a little pan of fire, chafing his bloodlesse and withered vaynes, and reading in a booke which he held vppon his knee. The good olde man was somewhat astonished when he sawe the pilgrime, but much more when he beheld the Knights halfe dead body be­fore his doore. In like case was Pharisor, séeing the old mans head and beard so vener able, with an aspect of holinesse much to be admired: so that albeit he was an assured hardie knight, yet was he surprised in such sort, as he durst not o­pen his mouth to speake vnto him, but with more great ho­nor and reuerence, yea, with more regard, then if he had spo­ken to the greatest Monarch on the earth. Beside, the histo­rian (speaking heereof) saith, that he set his knée on the thre­shold of the olde mans doore, and spake vnto him in this manner.

Father, for that thy white head and beard, with the ve­nerable aspect of thy countenance, makes me conceiue that thou hast experience in many affayres, and that in thée abi­deth more good then in other men, by reason of the holinesse of life which thou leadest in this desert, farre from all euill [Page] company or conuersation of the wicked, who oftentimes (by their frequenting) induce the good to doo ill, whereby they incurre the wrath of God and his indignation: where con­trarywise, hee regardeth with a chéerefull eye such as doe well, and (as thou) hauing repented their sinnes, despise the manner of dissolute life, full of voluptuous and carnall con­cupiscence: lead a life austere and full of solitude, to temper and appease (by these meanes) the violence of inordinate appetites and euill desires, whereby they are naturally in­cited, and prouoked to doo badly, enclining rather to vice then to vertue. If thou haue any humanitie, and art not al­together naked of swéete amitie, whereby humaine societie is preserued: I desire thée in the name of God, to haue pit­tie and compassion on the miserable estate of one of the most valiant and braue Knights, that the Sunne euer vouchsa­fed to looke vpon, whome thou beholdest cruelly wounded, and readie to die heere before thy doore. Father, do thy best endeuour to cure his wounds, wherewith thou séest hee is vnnaturally iniured: and if the heauens haue not so fauou­red thée, that by humaine cunning thou canst giue remedie: or if thou perceiuest them to be incurable, and that he must néedes presently dye: yet to the end the soule may not pe­rish together with the body, let him receiue by thy hands the holy Sacrament of Baptisme, by the meane whereof, and the grace of God assisting, men are washed and made cleane from originall sinne. For he hath told me, that by na­tion he is a Pagane, contrary to the beléefe that Christians doo professe: doo thou then thy dutie, and God shall yeeld thée thy recompence in heauen. If my wordes may not in­cite thee to this christian worke: yet let the hardnes of the pittious estate wherein thou beholdest him, at the least mooue thée to humaine compassion. Thus spake the sayre pilgrime, whereto the good olde man thus answered.

Hee to whome all that liue and die doo seruice and obey­sance, the great Father of the world, he that created it, and [Page] all things that inhabite therein, commandeth me (pilgrime) to doo what thou requirest: for it is his will that wee doo good one to another, and likewise that we should render good for euill, as well to our enemies as to our freends. And al­though the contrarietie of his religion from ours, might somewhat withhold me from accomplishing thy desire: yet will I vse my very vttermost endeuoure for thy sake, whom I know to be a Christian, because I am commaunded from aboue to do so. Not that I haue any skill in the art of medi­cine or Chirurgerie, for I vnderstand nothing tending ther­to, much lesse knowledge haue I in the nature or vertue of hearbes: but I helpe and giue remedie to the body by such meanes as thou shalt perceiue: bring him then into my lodging, and bow thy knées in prayer to God, as thou behol­dest me to make my orisons. Pharisor obeyed the Hermits commandement, brought in the body of the Knight, which could not mooue or stirre more then a dead man: the old man knéeling downe by him, opening his eyes and lifting vp his hands, hauing thrée times made the signe of the Crosse vp­on the body, and softly vttered certaine priuate suff [...]ages and Orisons, the pilgime being likewise on his knées: with an high voyce, and a hart full of deuotion, he sayd a prayer of this substance or effect.

Thus prayed the good Hermit, and at the same instant baptized him, in the name of the Father, the Sonne, and the Holy ghost: saying and dooing all that is requisite in the ho­ly Sacrament of Baptisme, in the presence of Pharisor, who serued as his Deacon. Then suddenly discended from hea­uen vppon the Hermits lodge, such a cleere brightnesse, more golden then the Sun: that the Hermit and the Pil­grime had theyr eies so dazeled therewith, as they were con­strained to lye flat with theyr faces on the earth, as if they would haue kissed it. And more astonned were they, then if it had mightily thundered, because they heard a voyce from heauen, vttering these words: Be whole braue knight, to the ende thou mayst dye for maintenance of the Christian faith, whereinto already thou art receiued.

[Page] Then suddenly the bright s [...]lendour vanished away, when the Hermit and Phariso [...] arose, and the Knight so soone as they, as sound, lustie and pleasant, as if his body ne­uer had béene wounded. Notwithstanding, he greatly mer­ueiled to sée himselfe in such a place, betwéene two men whom he knew not: hee béeing of the opinion, that hee had béene but in a sléepe, and all the paine hee had felt of his woundes, was no more then a dreame. Yet he remembred all that was past before, since, and at that instant, especially Pharisors request to the Hermit, and the prayer the Hermit made to God for him, also the bright cléerenes that appea­red, the baptisme he had receiued, with the voyce from hea­uen, which he well vnderstood: whereat being not a little a­bashed, he was strongly confirmed in the christian religion, for which euer after hee determined to imploy all his forces till death, contrary to the promise he made, when he depar­ted from the kingdome of Phez. Then being well remem­bred and certaine of all these things, which he had séene and vnderstood, he humbly thanked the holy man: who tolde him, that to God onely he should returne thankes, for his health came from him, and no other. As for him, he but prai­ed, and afterward made a breefe S [...]rmon, wherein he ex­amplified & declared the points of christian religion, wher­in the king of Phez tooke singuler pleasure. This doone, the good man and Pharisor desiring him to tell them, of whence and what he was, and wherefore he fought so manfully a­gainst him that had so cruelly wounded him: hee began to recount vnto them all his aduentures, in manner as you shall read héereafter.

Chap. 6.

IT is now high time, that wee should re­member the fortunes and aduentures, of the famous and vertuous knight Gerile­on, because of him our historie beares ti­tle, and for his sake we haue composed in this second Booke, following the former order you read before: the aduentures of the loyall louer, of the Sophie of Persia, and the puissant Squa [...]ell▪ By discontinuing a little in spéech of them, with repetition of them héereafter in time and place conuenient: we shall giue yee to vnderstand, that this whole discourse is builded to no other end, then for him, and to his euerlasting commendation. To this end, that the diuersitie of these things, which are most agreeable to the greater part of rea­ders, may bring ye the more pleasure and recreation. To come then againe where wee left: yee must conceiue, that [Page] after he had long time sailed on the sea, with the fauour and fortune of the windes that then gouerned, when he had con­quered the shippes of the Giant Squamell, with them that were his Pirates and théeues, that spoiled Merchants of their goods and treasure, where he heard tidings of his horse & armes, which he had stollen: he was in the end (by violence of a sudden tempest) cast vppon Armenia, in a place farre of from the Forrest of great aduentures, and which was as barren and desolate, as that which before we deciphered vn­to yee, where by the prayer of the holy Hermit, the king of Phez recouered his wounds. Being arri [...]ed in a porte of [...]lender assurance for the safetie of ships, he minded to go on land a while: till the tempest (which raged so extreamely, and made the Seas vnfit for passengers) were ceased, not for any longer abyding there.

Heerevppon, he commaunded the maister of the Ship to launche out a Squiffe, whereinto hee entred with his ar­mour and his Squire: desiring the Knight, whome hee had saued from shipwrack on the Sea, as yee haue heard, which was he for whose méeting he enterprised this voyage, to ta­rie in the Ship for the safetie thereof, and to hinder that the Pirate which brought them against the aduentures and forces of Nabot and Squamell, should doo them no more iniurie, or flie away with the Shippe which hee had gotten [...]rom him, and so thereby driue his iourney to a further de­lay or lingering. The knight, who had learned all his dis­seignes, the occasion of his searche, and other aduentures, promised to fulfill his request: so vnder this promise going on shoare, he was somewhat abashed, to sée a place so great and spacious, to be so desert, barren, and comfortlesse, for he could not discerne one Tree, where vnder he might take a little repose: which he not a little desired, because hee was crazie and ouer much wearied, with his long continu­ance in the Shippe on the Seas, whereto hee was not ac­cu [...]omed, and in soothe it cannot but bee yrkesome and [Page] tedious, to such as are not acquainted with that kinde of trauaile. So finding a little path on the port where he lan­ded, he kept on his way, to see if wandering further from the Sea, which was inhabitable by the sterilitie of the place: he could finde anye bush or shadowed plot, where hee might rest awhile and take the fresh ayre. For the countrey of it selfe was naturally enflamed with extreame heate, and the shade of the ship which he had so lately left, was likewise hot and troublesome to him. But when he had gon about the space of a mile, hee found himselfe so ouercharged with his armour, which till then hee alwayes had worne vppon his body: as he was constrained thorow the extreame weight be felt thereof, to disarme himselfe, hauing desire to walke longer time, and more at his ease, vntill he could sée some place conuenient for him to rest in. And as Geliaste his Squire was beginning to take off his armour, perceiuing that hee must beare this heauie burden on foote, hee thus spake to his maister.

In sooth my Lord, this Armour dooth so well become ye, as no heat (me thinkes) should cause yee to disarme your selfe: for in mine eye, séeing you armed by me, I see Saint Michaell the faire Acchangell, leading me with such securi­tie into paradise: as all the deuils in hell cannot get me in­to their hands: you are so proper and of so goodly appea­rance, when you are armed, as ye cannot méet any Lady vp­on the way, but presently she will become enamoured of ye. And it is no small thing, to gaine the loue of faire Ladyes that may be met withall: for such a one she may be, as is not to be refused. To others likewise you séeme so redoub­ted, as there is not a beast in all the world, but beholding you approching, will [...] farre enough from yee. Whereas if ye vnarme your selfe: I am afraide I shall bee driuen to trie the goodnes of my legges, which were my great sorrow if any thing should so happen. It seemeth when you are ar­med, that you were brought into this world, and fourmed [Page] an excellent m [...]uld for an armo [...]r, or that you were borne armed, and made expressely to beare this ornament. If God had béene so gratious to me, as to haue made me of such per­fection and propertie, as that I had béene borne to weare ar­mour: I would neuer make my selfe naked thereof for any other clothing, notwithstanding the greatest heate that might be, but he hath not made me apt to beare such honor, or any way to defend it. If I carry it in mine armes, and any one méete me therewith, hee will say: that I am some Iugler, so decked to make the world laughter and pastime. And therefore (my Lord) I beséech yee credit my councell, to suffer your Armour still on your body as it is: for what know ye may suddenly happen, and what but your armour can do ye seruice. As for me, these armes will not serue me to doo any thing therewith: because I know, as I haue bin a little instructed, that from my birth I should be but faint hearted and a coward. Whereto the knight, who knew wel his squire spake these wordes but to make him merrie and pleasant: smyling to himselfe, thus answered.

My freend, I pray thée carry no such dismay in thy minde, as to vaunt whether I am armed or vnarmed: for I rather doubt this will make thée become ouer courragious, where­by I may be held suspected, that I haue not [...]nstructed thee as I ought to doo, but rather haue kept thee fasting wursse then in the time of Lent. Therefore onely do as I command thee, carrie mine armour: and thou shalt sée, we shalbe as merrie afterward, as now, and that no furious beast dare venture to make thee trie thy legges.

My Lord (quoth Geliaste) I am most constant in obeying your commaund, yet doo I esteeme it a much better aduice, that I should weare your armour on my body, for the more easie cariage: and that you should come after mee, and call me my Lord, and I to call you my sq [...]ire Geliaste, yea, it is necessarie you should doo whatsoeuer I command yee. For when you are armed, and I not, I come after yee, I call yee [Page] my Lord, and you call mee Geliaste, and which is more, I o­bey and doo all that euer ye bid me. And questionlesse, rea­son requireth this which I saye, because there is no other difference betweene vs: for wee are both men, and as you haue beene armed, so am I nowe at this present, doone by your helpe and assistance: it followeth then, that you do me the selfe same honor, and much more then I can doo to you, when you are as I am n [...]w. For it is but armes and gaye garments that honors the person, and you will not deny, but that you are honoured by your armes. See I pray ye if the strong Nabot, if his brother Squamell, if the Sonnes of the old Grandowin, if the puissant king of Phez and his bre­theren, if the great king of Persia, if the braue king Flori­damant, of whome is made such rumour and renowne tho­rowe the world. If the monstrous king of Scithia, or any of so many other woorthy personages, that gayned praise and reputation by armes: had euer w [...]n such honour and ac­count, if they had not béene alwayes armed: your selfe, had you euer vanquished the strong Giants, which I feared would haue eaten mee, Ferclast and his bretheren: if these weapons had not beene in your hands, and this armour on your body? Truely, without these armes you had beene but in bad case: and thereof ought honor be doone to armes, and to such likewise as beare them. Certainly (quoth the knight) Geliaste my good freend, there is too much sophistrie and déepe sence in thyne argument, to perswade that which thou proposest. How? sophi [...]rie my Lord? sayd the Squire: nay rather reason enough, when I receiue no sufficient contrary answer. For there is no other difference betwéene vs, b [...]t that you are oftentimes armed when I am not, and then I honour yee, when yee make no account of me, but in dooing yee seruice. It then ensueth by like reason, that when I am armed and you not: you should doo such dutie to me as I haue sayd: In other things wee are equall and alike, as by reason I will prooue vnto yee, which (as yee [Page] know) should alwayes be held of greatest trueth. For when you laugh, I laugh likewise: when you weepe, I weepe al­so: when you goe, I goe: when you are on horsseback, I am not on foote, and when you are on foote, I am not on horsseback. If you be agreeued, so am I: if you be amorous, I am so as well as yee, when yee eate, I eate: when you drinke, I am thirst [...]e: when you sléepe, I snort. What will yee that I shall say for further proofe? in breefe, there is no other difference betweene vs, then as I haue sayd. By my faith (sayd the knight (who tooke great pleasure in hearing him thus prate like a Parret,) Thou saist true Geliaste: but tell me I pray thée, howe canst thou saue thy selfe from this answere, and not confesse thy selfe to bee v [...]qui­shed?

Thy father, thy mother, and mine: are they one selfe same persons? are we [...] two as great, the one as the other? thou well perceiuest we are not, for I am far greater then thou art: we are not likewise of one teiucture, nor of haire alike. When we dine, when we eate or drinke, we [...]t not both at one table, thou dinest and suppest at my dispence, or by my meanes, I neuer dine or sup at thine, nor by thy helpe. When I combate, thou doost not: I looke the enemie in the face, and stand to him, thou turnest thy back and flyest: when I am assured, thou art fearefull: and sometime when I smite, thou bearest away the blowes, or takest thee to thy heeles, and so escapest.

Continuing these speeches, with diuers other to passe a­way the time, as the Knight was highlye contented with this pleasant kinde of arguing: they followed still the path that had conducted them from the Sea, and were come now the space of two good myles, when a far off the Knight dis­couered a little thicket, which was round beset with fayre Bushes: this gaue him some hope, that there hee should find so [...]e Spring or Fountaine, where bee might quench his thirst, which pained him greatly, and shaddow sufficient [Page] to take the frew ayre, and rest himselfe as he had some néed. Here vpon he continued his way thither ward, and beeing there arriued, was glad hee had found the thing he desired. For this place was round enuironed with great goodlye Trees, where vnder was a most pleasing shade, and in one part thereof was a most fayre cléere fountaine, the sourse whereof was engirt with a daintie sweet spring, the great­nes whereof contained three acres of ground. The grasse was there so greene and cheerefull as possible might be, and cheefely there, more then in any other part adioining: wher­at the Knight greatly meruailed, and without care of see­king after any other particuler occasion, but contenting himselfe with the naturall fertilitie of the place, proceeding from the riuer the onely cause thereof: hee went about to beholde, and mounting on a higher part of the ground, to rest himselfe vnder a coole shaddowe, he fell a sleepe, and so did Geliaste likewise, where (for necessitie sake) we wil giue them leaue to rest a while.

Chap. 7.

[Page] THe good and vertuous knight Gerileon remained a sléepe, according as you heard in the end of the former chapter, about the space of two houres: but Geliaste could not sleepe so long, because in his slumber he dreamed that he heard a swéet hermonie, wherein his thoughts tooke very great pleasure. So that when he awaked, he plainlye heard what he dreamed on, no imagination, but a very per­fect voyce singing a song. He heard a femenine voyce, very swéete and mellodious, which sang with pleasure to the eare, yet pittifully in regard of her cause, a song in the Spa­nish language, the substance whereof héereafter followeth. Nor was there any humaine heart that heard it: but as it would haue beene highly pleased, so could it not choose but compassion would haue mooued it. The Song was thus.

Alreadie six times together had the voice sung this song, ere the Squire would arise to awake his maister, who as yet had heard nothing: but the seauenth time, as the song was halfe finished, or at this place where we haue paused, he well vnderstanding both the words and sence: arose, and awaked the knight that slept, saying. My Lord, I pray yee take your armour, for I imagine you shall finde some ad­uenture heere, that will incite yee to the combate. As for me, I shall not, because I haue bound your armour so long, as I am wearyed therewith. I pray yee this once stand in my defence, and fight for mee and in my place: because I finde my selfe so spent with choller, by reason of the greefe I conceiue at the Ladyes song which ye heare, that if I should lay hand to my weapon in this rage and agonie: I am a­fraid I should kill my selfe, which I should be very sorry to doo, not so much for the looue of my selfe, but because if such inconuenience should happen: you should be left all alone, and so haue no body to carrye your armour. Well Geliaste (quoth Gerileon) thou hast reason to be so carefull of me, and I take it in very good part: but what Song is that thou tellest me of? and wherefore hast thou awaked me? Listen a little my Lord, quoth the Squire, and you shall heare what it is. Then the Knight heard the same voyce which his Squire had doone, continuing the Song in this man­ner.

The knight hearing in a place so farre from the company of men, and withall [...] desert and barren, a humaine voyce singing with such sweetnes and mellodie, as the best sing­ing birdes might [...]ease their notes to listen, and the harpe of Orpheus had beene but rude to the eares of such, as first had heard the heauenly hermonie of this song, was no lesse dro­uen into admiration, then ouercome with pleasure in the hearing. But when the squire tolde him, that in the begin­ning of the song mention was made of the nymph Oziris, he was sodainly prouoked with an extreame desire, to knowe on what occasion the Ladie song, and who conducted her in­to that place. So putting on his armour, except his helmet, which he lefte as yet in the hand of the squire, [...]rauersing a­mong the highest trées, he went straight to the place, where he heard the voyce, and there hee found a great déepe dunge­on, which was round about enuironed with trées, wherevn­der he had before seated himselfe, there he beh [...]ld a huge hole into the earth, the mouth whereof des [...]ended downe into the dungeon, where he sawe a Ladie that sometime had bene of exquisite beautie, as yet the feature of her countenance dis­couered: but the long languishing solitude, which as it sée­med, shee had no little while endured, had so extenuated and chafed awaie her perfection, as she séemed nothing in beau­tie to her former estate, Besides, her garmentes, that whi­lome [Page] gaue her some fourme, being now olde, rent, & [...]rne, made her séeme lesse beautifull than indéede shee was, not­withstanding men of iudgement may easily conceiue, that were she reduced to her wonted plight, shee would appeare more excellent than euer she did. The knight beholding her, began to reason and talke with her, as thus. Faire Ladie, (quoth he) I wish that once more for my sake you would sing the song, which not long since ye did, for you haue a voice so swéete and agréeable, that in hearing yee, I conceined excée­ding great pleasure. Or if you thinke me not of such desert, yet at the least doe me the fauour to sing it againe, for the loue of Phynander, him whom you haue so great desire to sée. The Ladie was somewhat abashed when shee hearde the knight speake, especially when shee behelde his wonderfull beautie: then came to her memorie, that this was he she had so many times séene in her sléep, combatting against the cru­ell sauage Polyppe, and of whom she had heard the faire O­zyris speake: wherevpon she chaunged sodainly into a ver­million colour, like a fragrant gilleflour, when with a trem­bling voice she thus aunswered the knight.

If thou art not he that must bee the cause of my deliue­rance. I praie thée friendly knight, for the youth and beau­tie which I beholde in thée, and whereof I haue verie great compassion, staie not héere to listen my singing. For it may so fal out, that if once more thou giuest eare to my song, thou wilt receiue more displeasure, than therein thou tookest de­light and contentment. But without further expence of time in questioning wherefore, I pray thée (whilest it is yet permitted thée) to be gone spéedily, and with the greatest di­ligence thou canst possibly vse, out of this place, assuring thy selfe, that I would not refuse to graunt thy request, as well [...] the vertue as the beautie which I conceiue to be in thée, [...] also for the loue of him in whose name thou doest require the same. For thou must knowe for certaine, that if while I sing, the sauage Polyppe ariue héere, he will kill thée though [Page] thou hadst an hundred liues. Therefore I counsell thée as thou louest thy life, to get thée gone from hence as soone as thou canst.

I neuer feared (quoth the knight) the thing I neuer saw, nor whereof I euer heard anie spéech, therefore you labour in vaine in perswading me to flight, I rather imagine that you vse these wordes, to excuse your selfe in the request I made vnto you.

The Ladie would haue spoken something more to him, but sodainely came a swift foule whistling with her wings, and flying hard by where the knight stood, pearched her selfe in one of the highest trées about the dungeon. At the hea­ring whereof the Ladie was so ouercome with passion and feare, that her tongue stood as fast bounde in her mouth, in such sorte, that shée (not hauing the power to speak anie one worde) was constrained to withdrawe her selfe farther into the denne, tourning her backe towardes the knight. Uppon this accident Gerileon hearde a greate and fearefull voyce, which without customable order, made a meruailous noise, lyke vnto the bellowing of a Bull, when he is strayed from the troupe of kine that he conducteth. Then presently a­mong the bushes entered the cruell and fierce sauage, carry­ing a dead béefe vppon his shoulder, and in one hand he helde two other deade béefes, intending with this prouision to make his supper. The aspect and forme of him, at the first sight, made the knight somewhat dismayed, for hee was co­uered all the bodie and face with long shagge haire, as black as a coale, and no manner of white appeared about him but his téeth. The eyes in his head were lyke fire, hee was of a Gyants stature, and right before his nauell he had the head of a dragon, verie hideous and vgly, with a greate mouth, whereout appeared two mightie long hooked téeth, sharply pointed, and verie dangerous. On his necke he bare a great staffe, made in the fourme of a mase, wherewith hee was wont to take and kill both men and beasts of all sortes. So [Page] soone as he espied the knight, he presently layde downe his load, and taking his [...] staffe from his shoulder, beganne to laie at the knight: who seeing the vnaccustomed furie of the monster, quickly caught his helmet from his squire Ge­liaste, which when his maister had, hee ranne to hide him­selfe in the hole where he had seene the Ladie. The Sauage leaping to the dungeon, which was as large as it was high, first smote at the knightes head with the staffe, from which to shield himselfe, he turued with such dexteritie and light­nesse, as he was not auie [...]te hurt thereby. Which the mon­ster perceining, redoubled another blowe on the other side so violently, as the knightes shielde was thereby verie much brused, and his arm [...] stonnied greatly with the stroke. Not­withstanding, he stood firmely against him, and entered in­to such coler against the monster, that his face and bodie be­came all red, and his eyes [...]parkled as fire, so that the sauage who neuer before feared anie man, and imagined that this was but a signe of feare in him, sodainly thought that he be­held the knightes ladie enuironed in a flame of fire, that sée­med (as it were) to issue out of him.

This happened not to him of himselfe, but by the succor and aide of his nurse Oziris, who made him appeare in this fearefull resemblance, thereby to weaken the vntonqueta­ble strength of the sauage, against whome the knight so ab­uanced himselfe, with his broade brandishing swoord in his hand, and reached in furie such a stroake at him, that had it met with the head of the monster, as it [...] with his staffe, which was as great as the most of a shippe, he had [...] it in two partes.

But the vn [...]nted sauage, hauing quickly adua [...]ced his staffe before, was not hurt by the stroke, only his staffe was néere cut in sunder, although it was very hard wood, and be­set round about with knagges and knottes, which lifting vp againe, he [...] so rigorously vpon the knightes helmet, as it was broken through the middest, Gerileon likewise bee­ing [Page] so a [...]nied, as hee knewe not whether it was daie or night, and staggering therewith, he was readie to fall to the earth, yet he fell not, but recouering fresh courage, smote with his swoord to cut off the monsters head, who espying the blowe comming, ranne fiercely vpon him, and grasping him about the bodie, stroue to ouerthrowe him, or by his fast holde to strangle him. Then forcing him to the Dragons head, which naturally was fixed right against his nauell, most cruelly he bit him by the vpper parte of his thighes, his armour for that part not auailing him, but the two crooked téeth entered quite thorowe. The knight fel [...]e verie greate paine hereby, and entered into such excéeding fury, when by strong wrastling he had gotten forth of the monsters armes and withdrawing himselfe thrée or foure paces backe, hee smote fiue or sixe terrible blowes at his bodie, all thicke to­gether, not one [...]arrying for another. With one of them hee cut off his arme, albeit it was couered with rough and harde haire, which was of great defence for his bodie, but that the knights strength was meruailous and incomparable. By the other blowes the sauage receiued fiue great wounds, as well on his head, as on other partes of his bodie, which in­iured him more then the losse of his arme, because in stead thereof immediatly sprang forth of the same place a Lyons clawe of meruailous greatnes, so that he felt no defect of the other losse: but the paine of his other woundes made him [...]rie and roare so horribly, that the knight saued from ship­wracke, and the marriners in the shippe at the sea side, not knowing what it was trembled with feare, some of them swouning and falling into trances, especially when by this [...]oise they beheld the sea moued with so great a tempest, as the cables that held the anchors were almost broken in the middest, and Gerilcon himselfe beeing amazed, yet not that he minded to giue ouer the fight, though immediatly he felt himselfe caught by the shoulders with the Lions clawe, so [...]ately risen vppon the Polyppe, as therewith hee was verie [Page] grieuously wounded, euen to the losse of verie much bloud. But being (by meruailo [...] force and vinacitie) gotten once more out of the monsters hold, he doubled many strokes vp­pon him, slicing the haire and skinne awaie by greate gob­bets, notwithstanding the extreame hardnes thereof. And the sauage defended himselfe couragiously, wounding and offending with his clawe and téeth the vertuous nurse child of the faire Ozyris: who in this manner combatted all the rest of the daie, vntill such time as the night being come, the sauage hauing lost great store of his bloud, and with the losse thereof féeling great weakning of his forces, chaunged himselfe from his first forme, into the shape of a huge mer­uailous roaring lyon, which so soone as hee had giuen the knight to beholde, he fled into the obscure caue, where the Ladie and Geliaste were hidden, whereby Gerileon remay­ned verie greatly perplexed.

CHAP. 8.

[Page] WHen Gerileon sawe that the sauage had changed his shape, and was de­parted from the combat, he knewe that hee shoulde haue somewhat to doe to vanquish him: and withal hee considered, that if hee could escape this vnexpec­ted danger, he shoulde de­serue praise and reputati­on for euer, which was the greatest guerdon and [...]compence, that all his aduenturous [...] aimed at, for which he not at all dreaded the ha­zard of his life. There vpon hee determined to abide in that place, yet not in the caue or dungeon, but aboue vnder the trées, where he had rested himselfe the daie before, attending when the Polyppe should come forth againe in his new re­ceiued forme, to finish the combat he had begun: yet hee not knowing the originall or behauiour of the monster, nor for what cause he abode in that place: but in this determinati­on hee went from the caue and layde him downe to rest for that night, vntill the cleere light of a new day should shew it selfe to the world. But it was not possible for him to take a­nie rest hauing (as one sayth) thrée tinglinges in his eare that hinde [...]ed him. The principall whereof was, the conti­nuall thoughts, whereby he was rauished in contemplati­on [Page] of his Mistresse. The second was his feare of his squire, least he was slaine or outraged by the monster: for he loued him so deerely, as he could not sleepe, vnlesse he were assu­red that his Squire was as well as himselfe, such was the care he had of him. The third, which was no lesse hurtfull to his body, then these other twaine were to his minde: was the great paine he felt in his thighes and shoulders, by the téeth and clawes of the monster, by meanes whereof all his body became enflamed, by reason of the venim wherewith the nailes and téeth of the Sauage was infected. Heereby he became meruailouslie spent and ouercharged, and euen readie to fall into a mortall feauer: when suddenly he be­ing in this paine, heard the water (which as I tolde yee be­fore enuironed the dungeon) to mooue with a great mur­mure, as if some one had bathed himselfe therein. Héerevp­on he presently lifted vp himselfe, as it were to knowe the cause thereof, when hee beheld come foorth of the riuer the fayre Nimphe Olympia, chamber maide to the Fayrie Ozy­ris. She hauing oftentimes seene him, was fresh in memo­rie, and knowne immediatly: when suddenly running to him, embrasing him louiugly, she entred into these spéeches.

My sweete friend, within these two houres am I come hither, guided by the channels of vnder-ground, from whence these waters ascend to this place: euen from the Pallace of the Nymphe Ozyris thy Nursse, whome I serue and reuerence, shee louing thee extreamly, as well thou knowest. Hither am I come from her to preserue thee, and to tell thee withall, that if thou suffer me not to embalme the wounds on thy body with this precious vnguent, which she expressely commaunded me to bring in this golden bot­tel thou beholdest in my hand: thou art in very great danger of thy life, so that thou canst hardly escape the death, if thou continue in this estate but till to morow morning. Therfore disdaine not to discouer where thy wounds are, that I may put in execution the command of my lady, wherto I dare in [Page] no wise be disobedient. I may not (quoth he) faire Olympia, & my friend, refuse the succour of my most deare Oziris, nor of thyselfe likewise, for albeit the necessitie wherin I now am did not incite me to take it, yet the obeisance which I owe both to the one and the other of ye, marie more great to the mistres than to the seruant, commands me to obey all that you can command in a knight. So saying, he discouered his woundes to the Nimphe, who applyed to them the preci­ous ointments in the golden bottell: which was no sooner spread vpon them, but presently he felt no paine at all, and became immediatly as whole and sound, as if he neuer had béene wounded. Hereof was he not a little ioyfull, when im­brasing, colling and kissing the Nimphe more then a thou­sand times, who was in part the cause of so great good to him: he often enquired of the health of her Lady, and the rest of the companie, and chéefely if she had receiued any charge frō her, to tell him what issue the combate should haue which he had begun, whether he should be the conquerer, or himself he brought vnder and vanquished. Enquire not at all gentle knight (answered the nimphe) what shall happen to thée, ei­ther in this combat, or any other enterprises, wherein thou art to hazard thy life: for it is not lawful that mortall crea­tures should know things to come. Only be thou of good cou­rage, and take no gréefe of the multitude of trauailes, which thou must procéed in. Let it suffice that I say to thée in gene­rall, howbeit I néed not specifie so much before hand to thée: that thou art destined to vndertake & finish before thou diest many hautie enterprises. And of all them to behold the end, it behooueth thee to endure much to expose thy self to a thou­sand thousand dangers and perilous hazards: especially be­fore thou canst know who is thy father, or maist behold the place of thy birth, or what thy cheefest desire is to see: as oft times I haue heard the great princesse of the Fayries, the high & mightie Ozyris my mistres say, to whom it is necessa­rie that I quickly returne, because shee so commanded me. [Page] Therefore I say God be with thee, to whom I recommend thée, desiring him to guarde and preserue thée from all mor­tall daungers. Hauing so sayd, she kiss the Knight, and then vanished suddenly before him, he not séeing her, till she came néere the Fountaine, where he beheld her plange her golden tresses into the siluer waters, whereinto likewise she diued her whole body, being for this time séene no more, notwith­standing the manifolde intreaties for returne that the knight made: whereby he continued all the night so displea­sed, that he could entertaine no thought of rest, but when the vermillion blush of day breake began to showe his red locks, and disperse his splendour ouer the earth: hee put on his Armour againe, and wen [...] before the Caue, to attend the Polyppes comming to the combate, whereout if hee would showe himselfe this day: yet hee intended to speake with the Lady he saw the day before, to enquire of her the cause of this aduenture, as also for his Squire, for whose losse (which he imagined vnrecouerable) hee remained full of gréefe and sorrow. Long had he not stayed there, before the Polyppe came foorth, in the shape he had taken the night be­fore, which was like a mightie huge Lion, fierce, rauenous, and very fearfull to behold, farre differing from the natu­rall beasts of the same kinde, which ordinarily are not so great, hideous, and monstrous in view: which had terrifi­ed the Knight with feare, but that hee remembred the last woordes of the Nymphe Olympia, and as they began to quicken his memorie, so they made him become more har­die, fierce and terrible, then the Lion himselfe, who com­ming [...]ha [...]ing foorth of his den to run vpon him, seeing him stand with such resolued hardinesse: minded once to returne againe into his Caue. But the fire of his rage was so vio­lent, for loosing the combate the day before, as his heate could contey [...]e no gouernement, but that in all furie hee would flie vppon him: and snatching at him, stroue to teare away his shield that hung about his neck, and with such vi­gour [Page] did he catch hold thereon, as he brake the arme braces of strong brasse, and the buckles of steele wherewith it was fastened, in dooing whereof, he well néere had ouerthrowne him in the place: had not the worthie knight (more braue then the Lion himselfe) reached such a blow at his head, as but it was quicklie defended, hee had beene cleft therewith to the shoulders. But the sturdie beast, who the day before had made proofe of such like weightie strokes: let goe his hold, to make a step backward from the blowe. Euen as a mallicious enraged dogge, seeing a waff [...]ing man with an yron piked staffe, passing before a doore in a village where he lay sleeping, without any noyse or barking, runneth sud­denly vpon him, tearing with his téeth the flesh from one of his legges, wherewith the man being agréeued, turneth the yron poynt of his staffe to strike and kill him, which the dog fearing, giueth back and turning againe vpon the man, en­forceth himselfe to runne againe vpon him, to get a greater morsell from him: and he still standing vppon his guarde, threatnes the yron pointe more dangerouslie to the téeth of the Mastie, who perseuering still in his rage, constraines foorth himselfe still to giue him more woundes, yet being constrayned to flie, no lesse chafed then he was at the first, returneth vanquished into his kennell: and the man ouer­trauailed in this strife, féeling and séeing himselfe wounded and bléeding, to rest himselfe, is likewise enforced to go lay him downe in an other place. In like sort, this fy [...]rce and inhumaine monster, hauing left his fyrst holde, fearing to be smitten with the brandished swoord the knight helde in his hand, with the point whereof he menaced fatall death: kee­ping himselfe of the whole length of the swoord, turned a­gaine, watching where he might fasten his renting pawes and enuenomed téeth, without enda [...]gering himselfe: but the weapon being so neere him, eyther to loppe off a legge, or else to slice his head from his shoulders, as he perceiued how well the knight could handle his sworde: yet raising [Page] himselfe into rage and choller more then before, presseth on himselfe néerer and néerer, to throwe a violent blowe on the braue warriour, which (notwithstanding all his subtil­tie) could not hurt him. For hee beheld the weapon aloft, wherewith the knight verily thought to spoyle the Sauage: but the blow missing the aymed intent, falling to the earth, entred more then halfe the length of the sworde thereinto, which he being vnable presently to recouer, was left desti­tute againe. On which aduantage, the cruell beast got op­portunitie to close againe with him, and getting hold about the midst of his bodie, he held him so stronglie with his dan­gerous clawes, as with woonderfull force they pierced through the mayle of his haubergeon and his armour, euen to the tearing of his flesh: whereby hee felt such exceeding anguish, as he was ready to sinck downe, for the black bloud came forth in foure or fiue places, where the clawes were entred euen to the entrailes: which the knight too well fée­ling and perceiuing, considered, that if he applyed not his ve­rie vttermost deuoir [...], quicklie to recouer himselfe out of this holde, and lost any iot of courage in this extreame néed, the losse of life likewise would immediatly follow.

Heerevpon, he smote fiue or six strokes with the pommell of his sword on the Lyons head, for otherwise hee could not reach at him: and with such woonderfull puissance were these blowes deliuered, as he brake the scull of his head, and made his two most hurtfull teeth fall out of his mouth, the bloud likewise gushing foorth in great aboundance. When the Lyon felt himselfe so grieuously wounded, fearing least woorsse should befall him: endeuoured all he could to auoide taking and getting farre off from the knight, forbare to turne againe as he did ere be came to those assaults: where­by Gerileon felt himselfe much eased, for the beast pressed him in such fort, as hee was well néere sweltred and out of breath. Thus continuing still the combate in extremetie of furie, the rest of the day was spent, when the Lyon at one [Page] stroake thinking to finish the combate: let driue a very dan­gerous blowe at the knight, who foreséeing his mallicious rage, carefully regarded least, hee should abide any more gripes, and therewithall deliuered him such a stroke on the crest: as he was compelled to stagger backward, yet not to giue ouer the fight, when lifting vp one of his pawes, hee thought therewith to rent away the knights helmet: which Gerileon perceiuing, preuented him with such a sound salu­tation, as made him fall to the ground very weightily: then redoubling an other couragious stroke vpon his head, cleft it in the middest, the one halfe whereof (with the right chéeke and braines) fell to the earth. At this instant the Lion changed his shape againe into the likenesse of a Beare, that halfe breathlesse and ouerspent with trauayle, fled into the Caue againe, and there hid himselfe.

The knight well contented to pause a while, went from the Den, and returned to the place where he might rest all night, and there fynding the Golden bottell, wherein the Nimphe Olympia brought the pretious vnguents, and hea­led such woundes as he receiued the day before: hee tooke and opened it, and applying the same againe to his hurts: in lesse then halfe an houre they were soundly healed. So féeling no anguish or paine at all, saue onely that his bodie was wearied very much: being ouercharged with sleepe, he layde him downe and closed his eyes, where two whole houres he tooke quiet rest, and there will we leaue him, to finish this Chapter.

CHAP. 9.

I Tolde ye before, when the Polyppe first came to the caue, and when first hee me [...] with our inuincible knight, that a foul [...] fluttered thether somewhat before, or e­uen in the same instant was there pear­ched vpon a trée, from whence as yet [...] not remoued, but both while the comba [...] [Page] endured and afterward, still she sate vppon one braunche of the tree, to behold all that should passe betwéen the two com­battants, desirous in her selfe that the fight should soone be ended, and that the knight should be the conquerer, for cau­ses wherewith yee shall be better acquainted hereafter.

Now about two houres after the Knight had begunne to sléepe, the Polyppe (more furious in his new shape of a beare then before) came foorth of his darke den, where he reposed himselfe awhile, now to finish the combate so long since be­gun: determining to die himselfe, or else vtterly to extermi­nate the knights daies, for whom he fought very seriously, both within the Caue and euery where without. The Bird beholding all this, and fearing least the monster should méet with the knight, he would kill him in his sléepe, as hee cer­teinly intended: flew right downe where Gerileon slept, and with her bēake and winges so smote at him, that hee a­waked, and rising vp tooke his Helmet, looking euery where about him, to see who had so rudely waked him from sleepe. But no where could he perceiue the dooer of this deed, only he heard the Polyppe turmoiling and rauing on each side, sée­king where he was, yet could not finde him, braying with a very hideous and fearefull noyse: whereby he coniectured, that hee was waked by some other then humaine proui­dence, to end the combate begun, & now perceiuing he had slept ouer long, he began to chide himselfe in this manner. Unhappie that I am, to sleepe so long in this place, where I rather ought continually to haue had mine eyes waking, considering the enterprise I haue taken in hand, whereof now (it may be) I shall neuer sée the end. Am I not most in­discreet and badly aduised, to haue so little care of my selfe, as he [...]re to sleepe soundly, without dreading the danger and hazard of death, where I haue opposed both my life and ho­nor, for safetie of which I ought to watch continually? Cer­teinly I con [...]esse, & very well I know it, that I little deserue to make profession of armes, to [...]nd such doubtful and peril­lous [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] attempts, as dayly I endeuour my selfe to meet with­all: séeing hauing now found them, I make so slender ac­count of them: as I aduentured to sleepe, when honorable deuoire bids me wake and do my dutie. High time then is it for me, by meruailous diligence, and chiualrie, such as be­séemeth a man of vertue and account, to amend this fault: whereon I sweare, that I will neuer sleepe or take any rest, till I haue slaine this mutable and inconstant monster, that disguiseth and changeth himselfe into so many shapes, to de­ceiue and depriue me of life by an ouer long lingering com­bate. Hauing thus spoken to himselfe, he lightly stept aloft to the large den, wherein was the lothsome kennell of the sauage, whom he found in such manner and forme as alrea­die I haue told ye: to wit, in the likenesse of a Beare, excée­ding meruailous in greatnesse to behold, yea, more then I dare report vnto yee. For in his head, in steed of two eyes, you would haue [...]ayd were two burning torches, and you would haue imagined when he opened his mouth, that there ye beheld fire & flaming brands, when his teeth shewed like glowing red fire hookes, and were of such greatnesse with­all, as he could not containe them within his mouth, but were seene out on each side the length of more then halfe a foote. All his body was couered ouer with very long hayre, vnlike such as other beares haue, his clawes were great and sharpe, & his skin was of such proofe, as it could not be pier­ced thorow to the flesh, as the knight well perceiued at the very first stroke, which hee deliuered at him so soone as he came to the Caue, & with such force did it fall vpon his shoul­der, as the sworde hauing sliced away a great quantitie of the hard harsh haire: hee might see it fall on the ground, but no hurt at all was doone to the flesh. For the weapon grated vpon the skin, as the noise of a file vpon hard mettall, when it breaketh through the place where it enters: notwithstan­ding, the monster felt some paine hereby, for he was no soo­ner smitten, but he braied aloud so horribly, as he was heard [Page] more then ten miles from the place. This could not withhold him from running on the knight, against whom he so bestir­red himselfe, as he fastened his two feete about his necke so rudely: as the knight had no meane to hurt him, or defend himselfe. Then with his teeth he would haue bitten him by the throat, in which place if he had wounded him, he had bin dead though he had an hundred liues. But the knight fore­séeing the danger well enough, got the shéeld from his shoul­der right before him, where against the monster could not any iot preuaile, because he could fasten no hold thereon, so the knight stood wholy couered therewith. Now striue they to throw one another down, whē Gerileons strength against the Polyppe was to small purpose, such was his wonderfull and vnmeasurable power: on the contrary, the monster so roughly shooke the knight, as if he had not had more agilitie and skill, then force, at the very first offer he had bin cast: but he vsed such nimblenes and sleights, in succouring that part where he was most in danger, and containing himselfe still firmely on his féete: as the beast thus contended with him more then an houre, and yet could get no other aduantage. In the end hauing incessantly tormented himself in this ma­ner so long time, he (for al this) made him measure his length on the earth, euen as the mightie huge Pine trée, long labou­red with the forcible strokes and cuts of the Carpenters axe is in the end compelled to fall, and with his fall, leaues the marke of his goodly branches imprinted on the groūd where he lies, by the noi [...]e wherof all the beasts in the forrest wher it is hewen down, stand quaking and trembling with feare. Euen so the valourous knight, making a fearfull thun­dring with his armour, fell so weightily on the earth, as the marke of his armes, his helmet, braces, & print of his shoul­ders, remained engrauen on the ground, he being also sore astonied with the fal. The beast that wonderfully laboured for this aduantage, vnable to containe himselfe on his legs, fel also vpon him very fiercely: yet the knight was not so lost [Page] in his sences, but that he tooke speciall guarde, how thus ly­ing on his back, he might bestowe some hurtfull wound vp­on the monster, and thrusting fiercely at the armes and legs of the beast, hee made him glad to leape from him hastily, in which leap taking vnaduised heed, he fell with such weight vppon his owne head, as he became in a traunce with the fall. This gaue the knight libertie to recouer footing againe when aduauncing himselfe to this sauage disguised Beare, he gaue him so many strokes with the sharpe keene edge of his sword: that a great part of his body séemed to be shorne in like sort, as when a cittizen is barbed or polled by a yong ap­prentise Barber, vnskilfull in his occupation, his head ap­peared circled, notcht, and very euill fauouredly handled: but when he saw no little gutter of blood was drawn from him he grew into exceeding choller, when presently he beheld the beast come vpon him with wide open mouth, to get hold of him by some mortall morsell: for since the rec [...]iuing of this new shape, he had not yet receiued any great harme, which made him run likewise at the monster with the sword point and seeking to pierce it in at his mouth, by entring further into his body or head, deuised how to take away his life frō him: but herein he was deceiued, for the monster féeling the sharp weapon in his mouth, held it with his teeth more hard then the stéele it selfe, in such sort, that if the knight who (fea­ring what might ensue) had not quickly xecouered it thence, he had broken it in many peeces. But he rather intended to suffer the monster to take hold on him againe, then to lose his weapon and be a naked man, wherof if once he were depri­ued, hee then knew that he could not escape with life. The beast hauing thus fast seazed on him, wounded him with his teeth so cruelly on the right arme, as he well pierced quite thorow: wherby the knight felt such pain, as if his arme had bin pierced with hot yrons, such was the venim of the mon­sters téeth: this anguish prouoking Gerileon to anger, made him thrust violently with his sword at the belly of y ^• beare, [Page] but it was as hard as the rest on his bodie, notwithstanding he still laboured that place with thrust vpon thrust, till hée had the skinne there so soft and tender, as at last the swoord passed in a great waie. Now began the sauage to be so mad and fierce, as snatching at the sword which was in his belly with his téeth, brake it in the midst and then getting foorth of the knights power, tooke his former shape of the sauage a­gaine, and ranne to hide himselfe in his denne, as before hée was wont to doo, when he thought himselfe to be depriued of life, leauing nothing in the knights hande with the péece of his sworde, the breaking whereof did not a little grieue him. Neuertheles being so couragious and magnanimious as possible a man could be, he chéered by his spirites, hoping that night (which alreadie was come vpon him) to imagine some meane whereby he might victoriously escape the dan­ger, for otherwise hee had no care of sauing his life, vnlesse he might haue thence with him th [...] honor of conquering the monster, And such confidence had hee in his volour to per­forme this, as all fearefull doubts were now vtterly aban­doned, and so he went from the caue, to the place where hee was accustomed to take his rest the nightes before: where being set downe, he opened himself to view such wounds as he had receiued in this last conflict, and applied to them the precious ointments that were brought him by the Nymph Olympia, whereof there was nowe remained verie little in the golden bottell, which made him th [...]s resolue, no more to hazard the combat without death or victory, because he wel perceiued, that to returne wounded from the fight, was but to bring the dart of death with him, beeing without hope of helpe, in that he receiued no wound on his bodie but it was mortall, and which (without the vnguents sent him by Ozi­ris) had presently bene his death. Being in this determina­tion ready to lie downe on the gréene grasse, which was embrodered with many beautifull flowers, he remembred that before hee entered the last battell with the monster, hée [Page] had sworne not to sléepe or take anie rest vntill hee had put the sauage to death, or else himselfe to die in the triall, and so farre herein he considered with himselfe, as thus hee be­gan to parle with himselfe. Thou hast vowed not to sléep or receiue anie iot of rest, vntil thou hast slain this monstrous Polyppe, or thine owne life to perishe in aduenturing the combat. But vnhappie man thou canst not doe it, and thy vowe so careleslie made in choler, ought not so constrain thée but that (necessitie so requiring) thou repose thy selfe, in re­gard of such danger as hereafter may ensu [...]: which being o­ther then thou art able to coniecture of, thou maist lawfullie excuse thy selfe, and by good reason take thy rest, without standing on thine oath, thou abide in anie offence of consci­ence. For it is sayd, that a thing spoken in choler and vnad­uisedly, remaineth without effect: because till the humour be past, he hath no perseuerance to knowe what he sayd. In like sort if I binde my selfe by oath to doe a thing impossible for humane power, mine oath yeelds it selfe as vaine and vnprofitable, because of the vncertaintie of future euents and successiue affaires: in which case to be quit of mine oth, it ought not suffice that I haue done my endeuour, and all possible I coulde to doe what I haue vowed, albeit for the greate difficultie of the thing sworne, I farre differed from compassing it in such sort as I tooke mine oath. But howe now? quoth he sodainely, why séeke I reasons to excuse a matter sworne, where there is none to be admitted? I haue vowed to God, then can it not bee that mine oath is vaine: for breaking of such an oath, is a thing that verie weighty­ly chargeth the conscience, and God is the onelie punisher of so great and greeuous an offence. For before I swore, I might verie heedfullie and aduisedly regard what I doe, and the fault committed by folliie is as punishable as that done by aduise, in that all faultes are committed willinglie and by knowledge: in that God hath giuen reaso [...] to man, to take heed that he in no wise offend, so that a man not v­ [...]ng [Page] reason in the beginning of his actions, wroght his own knowledge. Moreouer. I haue sworne voluntarily, without the compulsion of anie one to cause mee sweare, séeing then I began thus willinglie, it followes of necessitie that I kéep mine oath inuiolable, without any breach whatsoeuer here­after. Nor ought I seeke anie cauils whereby to excuse my selfe, for none at all is to be allowed, in that a man of vertue making profession of honour and armes, ought to keepe his vowed faith, with all other matters belonging to his oath, euen so dearely as his proper life: lesse then which wee ought not to esteeme our conscience and our honour, both which in me I should account greatlie iniured, if I shoulde not die rather (a thing not impossible) or vanquish and put to death this monster before I sleepe, accordings as I haue vowed: it behooues me then not to sleepe tyll I haue done the déede.

Reasoning thus a long time within himselfe, hee began to thinke howe in the mean while he should weare the time awaie, and thinking [...] goe to the first place of rest, to seeke the swoord of his squier and companion, he changed quick­ly that minde, in that the sauage might begin i [...] the meane space: beside, he was vncertayne whether the Ships stai­ [...]ed all this whyle at the place where he lefte them, and if they were gone, what then might ensue to frustrate theyr hope. Nor was [...]ee certaine lykewyse, in so darke a nyght to finde the waie that brought him thether, so straying hee knew not whether, it would be long ere he returned again▪ and so shuld loose the commoditie of gaining so great fame, as was the victorie to come of this monstrous sauage, and whi [...]h most of all grieued him, hee had no reason to forsake Geliaste his faithful squier. Then comparing these reasons with others, he thought it ouer-much boldnes to staie there, [...]hinking with hands and nails so soft and tender, to combat [...]ith a beast so cruel, & wéeing to do that without his sword [...]hich when it was whole and sharp he could not compasse. [Page] Then came another opinion into his head, to laie a greate deale of wood on the mouth of the caue, and putting fire ther to, so smoother the sauage therein. But séeing hee wanted fire, and yet if hee had it, by this meanes the Ladie shoulde likewise die that he heard sing so swéetly: hee forsooke that conceit, imagining a new deuise, that the den of the Sa [...]age had many nookes and corners in it, where happily Gel [...]ste and the ladie were, in some place not knowen to the Polyp­pe. For heretofore hee had séene the caues of vnder-ground belonging to the Gyants Ferclaste and his brethren, & there­fore he entended to cut with his swoord great braunches of trees neere adioyning, and therewith to stopp the mouth of the caue, that the monster shoulde receiue no breathing in, but so should die stifeled. So thinking this last determina­tion to be the best, he sodainly arose to performe his intent. What happe [...]ed to him you may reade in this discourse fol­lowing.

CHAP. 8.

[Page] GErileon being thus determined, to giue an end to his last resolution, remembred that when bee parted from the statelye Fayrie Ozyris, aboue all things she re­commended to him the loue and feare of God, saying to him: that if hee had re­course to him in his aduersities, and with a good and cheerefull courage, did implore his assist­ance: he would neuer faile him, but euermore (according to his accustomed kindnesse) would shewe himselfe readie to helpe, not permitting him to [...]arrie long time oppressed. And sundry times before this vertuous Lady had taught him this faire lesson, which nowe in extremitie the knight well remembred: whereof lifting his eyes on high, bowing his knees with great humilitie, and holding his two hands knit together vp toward Heauen, where, with great ad­miration hee contemplated the disorder well ordered of the Moone, the Starres, the woorking powers, and general­lie of the celestiall bodies, according as his eyes were ca­pable of this sight: hee began to bee rauished in contem­plation, and made his prayer to Almightie God in this manner.

With these words he made an end of his praier, & beeing risen vp, he went with the piece of the swoord that remain­ed in his hand and lopped diuerse branches from the trées, and especiallie he cut an oake, containing in compasse the bignes of a mans thigh, euen of the best membred man that might be found. This oake was straight and full of knots round about, which taking in one of his hands, he cut away the little branches or shrigs, that grew on each side: and when he had shaped it according to his mind [...], it came into his head, that with this staffe he should attempt to vanquish the Polyppe by mightie downe right strokes, being perswa­ded to accomplish and performe with this staffe, what hée could not doe with his weapon. In this determination hee continued fashioning it in ample fourme for the purpose, sharpening the knottes on euerie side, that as occasion [Page] serued, hee might the better preuaile with his blowes: the [...]oint likewise thereof made hee so piercing, as easilie the [...]onster should not scape both strokes and thrusts. After he [...]ad thus busied hims [...]lfe an indifferent while, hee beheld faire Aurora come dauncing with the mornings garland in her hand, which made him not a little ioyfull, in that he had assured hope to bring his purpose to passe: such was his con­fidence in God, from whose fauour onely he expected an an­swere of this hope. Whereupon immediatlie he armed him­self, and taking his staffe, went to looke if the Polyppe were come againe to the place, where the dayes past they had con­tinued their fight. Now came foorth the monster more ter­rible and furious to behold, than at any time before, being armed with a huge strong buckler of yron, which he held in one hand, and a sharpe [...]icing Cimetarie in the other, by the kéene edge and pointe whereof, this day hee was promised victorie certainelie.

The knight also this day shewed him selfe, and appea­red more meruaylous and fearefull to the Sauage monster, then euer he did before: for looking on him, ye would haue thought, that as the Sunne when hee goeth to rest in the longest Summer dayes, is inuironed with Uermillion beames round about: euen so braue and beautifull séemed our Champion, and presenting himselfe readie to the com­bate, [...]e thus spake to the Sauage.

Thou hast (enemie to nature) long made resistance a­gainst my force and strength, and by thy most strange dis­guisings hast alreadie thrée times escaped the daunger of of thy life: but nowe (such is my trust in Almightie God, by whose inspiration and power I haue chosen a newe weapon to ouercome and destroye thee withall) thou shalt escape me no more, but shalt now end thy dayes with vt­ter confusion.

The Sauage monster as he was about to answer, shew­ed him the Buckler and the Swoorde, which he lifted on [Page] high, and in so dooing, he brayed and cryed, so that it séemed by his cryes, that he made the earth to tremble vnder his féete, that hee menaced the knight so to murder him with his Cimetarie, and with the assistance of his buckler to per­forme what he had sayd. Hauing thus spoken in his lan­guage, he deliuered a meruaylous stroke at the knight with his cimetarie, who by his dexteritie escaped both the stroke and death likewise, whereof he had beene certainly assured, if the blowe had falne vpon him, but being started aside, he would now make proofe if hee could do any thing with his staffe against the Sauage, and thereupon smote at him so lustily, as if he had not quickly animated his buckler before (which he held with one hand, though it was so weightie, as two men of this time could hardly stir it from the ground) doubtl [...]ss [...] the stroke had bin his death: but he couered him­selfe so well from the blowe, as hee had no harme, but his hand stonnied a little, whereat he being excéedingly angrie, rodoubled with his Cimetarie such a stroke on the knights sheeld, as cutting of a great part thereof, it fell to the ground, very hardly escaping the arme that held it, but no more harme or offence happened as yet. On the other side, the knight lifting vp his staffe with both his hands, hauing throwne backe his broken shield vpon his shoulder, intend­ing eyther to end his life or the combate: and albeit the Po­lyppe stood vnder guarde of his buckler, yet he receiued such a violent stroke: as made him fall downe astonished, not knowing where he was, and as hee sought to rise againe, the couragious knight bestowed such an other greeting on on him, as he could not recouer footing, so heauily fell the staffe vppon his stomach. Gerileon séeing him lie thus along, and wéening the latest extremitie was come, ranne vppon him to wrest the Cimetarie out of his hand, therewith to cut his thr [...]at, or otherwise kill him: but the Sauage who was not yet so vnprouided of strength, caught him so rough­lie by the arme, as made him like wise fall to the ground: [Page] when eche recouering himself, a great many violent blows were dealt betweene them, as it would haue required a ve­rie sound iudgement, to know whether side should haue the victorie. But in the end Gerileon, being highly offended the combate endured so long, within him called vppon God ve­rie deuoutlie, desiring him to strengthen his present stroke: and then lifting his staffe with meruaylous hardinesse, the blow fell so peisantly on the monsters buckler, as made him amazedly turne three or foure times about, during which time he redoubled such an other stroke vpon him, as broke the back bone of him in sunder, with all the ioynts of his neck, the bloud streaming from foorth his mouth in great aboundance, likewise out of his eyes, eares and nose, so that with the losse of this bloud, hee lost life and all together, though he might discerne as he lay vomitting, how with in­raged anger he bit the ground, and the effusion of his bloud made a great lake in that place. Nor can I compare his fall but to the like noyse of a huge pine tree, that beeing ouer­throwne by the vnmercifull blasts of winde, cast downe from the top of an high mountaine, falleth to the bottome with meruaylous noyse, breaking and renting his small braunches on each side, as all the inhabitants neere adioy­ning, remaine astonished and affrighted verie fearefully.

Thus dyed the infernall monster, by the vertue and pa­tience of this braue knight onely, who did more in this ex­ploit, then the puissant king of Siria euer did in former time, with the assemblie of all forces and conquering ar­mies, which hee only brought thether for the taking or de­struction of this monster.

Being ioyfull of this gratious victorie, he felt no payne or labour of this combate, albeit he was bathed all in sweat, through vexation of long delay in the fight: like a woman after the hard trauaile of child-bearing, forgetteth the an­guish of that bitter brunt, seeing her infant well brought into the world: for then such is her ioy, as she remembers [Page] no more the pa [...]ed stormes. So with great [...]umilitie and deuotion Gerileon gaue thankes to God, from whome hee knew proceeded this woorthie woorke of victorie, acknow­ledging that hee was but the minister or instrument, by whome GOD shewed the effects of his almightie proui­dence.

Soone after he had thus giuen thankes, the Ladye that sung the Song which yee heard before, came foorth of the Den where the Polyppe was wunt to hide himselfe: she be­ing pale, wanne, and trembling with feare, came and fel on both her knees at the knights feet, and embrasing his legs fast in her folded armes, she thus spake.

Most noble and vertuous knight, as euer was borne in this world, extracted and issued of high, princely, and gene­rous linage: happy [...]e the houre of thy arriuall in this coun­trey, blessed were the pappes that gaue so fayre a creature nourishment, and the mother that bare thee in her wombe, likewise the ship wherein thou saylest to this coast, neuer may it perish, but with safetie passe into euery place, free from vexation of stormes or tempests. Longer mayst tho [...] liue then the father of Amphilocus and Thrasimede, the strength and vigour of thine armes neuer féeling any weak­ning, but by the glory and honor of this blessed dayes victo­rie, to all posteritie may they make thee more famous, and after dea [...]h reuiue perpetually the renowme of thy valour. May each season by thy meanes taste the flourishing ver­dure and sweetnesse of an euerlasting spring time, seeing by thy her [...]yeall vertues I am this day deliuered from moste miserable bondage and seruitude, wherein poore desolate Princesse that I am, I haue beene too long a time detained. Thinke and consider vertuous knight I intreat thee, wher­in my wretched selfe may doo thee any seruice. My father hath great store of riches and treasure, beside more store of welthie and honorable friends: to whom if it may please yee to beare me company, I am assured for this my deliue­raunce, [Page] he will returne suc [...] recompence, as ye shall haue no cause to be discontented.

Ladie (answered Gerileon) riches and treasure are no such recompence as my trauailes do expect, neither did de­sire of any such matter incite me to knightly deeds, follow­ing the execution of dangerous exploits of Armes: but an earnest affection to do good, and bringing to passe such things as are pleasing in the sight of God: as is shortning the liues of the wicked, that ordinarily commit a thousand cruelties, displeasing to his maiestie. Nor am I ignorant, that among men of honor and vertue, I shall beare away more account and fame by the effects of this affection, then should I bee possessed of massie heapes of riches, the greedie desire wher­of (oftentimes) prouoketh men rather to do euill then good. And this is my assurance, that thus I shall obtaine more ea­silie the fauour of the better sort, and no other guerdon doe I require, eyther of you or your father: if the pleasure I haue doone ye, in deliuering ye from this monsters captiui­tie, may merit any recompence at all on my behalfe. But I repute the déed to bee of so slender valew, in regard of your deserts, as for all my labour bestowed, I require no other thing of yee: but that ye would tell me the first effects of this aduenture, and especially of whence ye are, how and wher­fore ye haue beene thus deteyned by this monster, also why ye sung the Song before the beginning of our combates: perswading your selfe, that with this onely courtesie I shall holde my selfe sufficiently requited.

If I should (most vertuous knight, answered the Ladie) recount from the beginning to the end, the whole Historie and progresse of all my misfortunes: three times would the sunne and moone make their course about the world, be­fore my discourse were ended, and so yee might thereby re­ceiue more discontent then pleasure. But for your sake, I am content to reueale what you desire to know, and when my tale shall growe yrkesome and offensiue to ye, then will [Page] I end if so ye please to commaund mee. As the Lady pro­céeded in this kinde of language, the knight (who held her by the right hand) espyed her chéekes suddenly died with a Uermillion blush surpassing the Rose, whereby her beautie which was nothing lesse inferiour there [...]o, receiued more splendour then before it did, when the monster with feare still dismaied her heart, and this inward dismay, greatly al­tered and changed her beautifull complexion, making her looke pale, wanne, and coullerlesse. Now began Gerileon greatly to meruaile heereat, and withall stood as amazed, when be beheld the vnlooked for companie of a young Gen­tleman so néere him, fayre and of good grace, who had pro­cured this loouely change in the Lady: nor did he take it a­nie iote displeasantly, though with a smiling and debonna­rie countenance, the young Gentleman approached néere to touche her, saluting her with a swéet kisse, humble reue­rence, and kinde embrace, expressing his inward affection and goodwill, which immediatlie was pursued with amia­ble and gentle spéech to Gerileon, full of gratulations and thankfull courtesies, as well for his deliuerance, as the La­dyes there present, where to when the knight had kindly re­plyed, as he was not to learne his court-ship, the Gentle­man ran and embraced the Lady in such sorte, as they are wunt to doo, that haue béen long time without the sight and company of such as they extreamely loue and affect: and she like wise, as finding no small ease heereby to her amourous flames so strictly bound the Gentleman in the circle of her armes, ouercome with loue and intire affection, as if he had not had more discretion then the Lady, fearing least Gerile­on would be offended at these ceremoniall actions of loue: I thinke they would neuer haue sundered till the worlds end: but he shewing a bashfull countenance for these amou­rous behauiours, (which neuerthelesse were performed mo­destly and comely) winding himselfe (though loth) from the anchorholde of his ioye, brake foorth in these spéeches to the [Page] Ladie. Swéet Mistresse, I heard that you made a promise to this knight, to whome both you and I remaine so highlie beholding, as you ought not delay any longer time, but to reueale what ye haue promised: aboue all things be so good as your woord, and obey whatsoeuer he shall please to com­maund yee: being assured that hee will command no other thing, then what shall be agreeing with honor and honestie.

My good Lord and fréend, answered the Lady, I doubt not but this woorthie knight will pardon me, if I be a little for­getfull of my dutie towarde him: considering the sight of you rauished my hart with such ioy, that if euer he knew to loue, and what his conquering passions are: he will rather referre the fault to his power, then to any disgrace or dis­courtesie on my behalfe committed.

At these words Gerileon sighed and changed couller, fée­ing to kindle againe within him by this new touch or re­membrance, the liuely amourous flames which not long since tooke beginning in his youthfull brest: and so much the more they encreased in him, as hee stroue to couer and dissemble the same, which the Ladie and young Gentleman well enough perceiued, albeit they made no shewe thereof, tearing to displease him to whom they were so greatly in­debted.

In this time Geliaste came foorth of the Caue, quaking and trembling, which made the knight so glad (fearing hee was dead) as he forgot some part of his late remembrance: for next to his Ladie, hee intirely looued his Squire, and would not lose him for any thing in the world. His comming causing pleasure and content to them all, they went further from the Caue, and laye downe in the shade vnder a great goodly Trée: where sitting very kindly together, the Lady began her discourse, in forme and manner as ye shall read in the Chapter following.

CHAP. 11.

THe skilfull Ladie Orphisa, began then to recounte her aduenture to the Fayrie Knight, in this manner. You must vn­derstand sir Knight, that I am daughter to the wise and vertuous king of Lusita­nia, a man, by reason of his prudence and valour, sufficiently knowne to all the world, as hauing doone many things worthie of memorie, the [...]ame whereof is bruted euery where. He being named Diegonde, was in his younger yeares a most accomplished knight, euen in the time of king Dorino, father to the king of Spaine at this instant reigning, who had a daughter in yeares mariageable, called Pollyda. This Ladie, beside her excellencie of beautie, could cunningly twist, spin & sowe, as is most proper to women, likewise she was well instructed in good letters and the liberall Artes: in such sort, as she was able to disgrace the most wise and studious Philosophers [Page] of those times, so subtillie could shee dispute of matters de­pending in Morrall and Naturall Philosophie concerning her selfe.

By reason héere of shee became so proud and audacious, as shee imagined no man then liuing in the world, was worthie to ioyne with her in mariage, and therefore despi­sed all: so that there was no one (how woorthie so euer) that durst enterprise to demaund the question, no, not the great King of England, who in those dayes was the most fayre and accomplished knight in the world, and highly loued of King Dorino, because of his valour. But the King my Fa­ther, who was become amorous of her, would put it in ad­uenture, either to gaine her in marriage, or be altogether refused. And in this resolution hee wente to the king of Spaines Court, where within short time after his arriuall, the Daughter hauing heard the cause of his comming thi­ther, gaue him to vnderstand by one of her Pages: that he could win nothing but losse of time, by séeking to ioyne in marriage with her, and therefore he should do much better, to imploy his purpose about other occasions. Héereat al­though the king my father was extreamly offended, yet left he not for all that to pursue the cause, and made his request to the king of Spaine (who would not marrie her against her will) with such importunitie: as in the end the Father and the daughter were constrained to graunt the pretended marriage, yet vnder this condition. That eight dayes be­fore the nuptials, my Father should be bound to hold open Ioust a whole day together, against all knights that should present themselues at this generall tourney, which expresse­lie was there appointed for honour of that day: and if hee were vnhorsed by any knight, hee should desist from his im­portunate sute and request of mariage. But if fortune smi­led so fauourablie on him, as that he went away conqueror in this enterprise: then eight dayes afterward, the desired mariage should be accomplished.

[Page] My father, who was caryed away with ouer hot and [...]u­rious heat of marrying this fa [...]re and skilfull Pollyda, ac­counting no danger to be in the enterprise, willingly yéel­ded to the mariage, vnder the condition proposed: although he knew right well, that those times affoorded great num­ber of most hardie and braue knights, that knew how to be­haue themselues in the Ioust, and could dismount such as carryed better estéeme then themselues. But amongst all, and beyond all the rest, was reckoned as most strong and valiant in each point of chiual [...]ie, the young knight Flori­damant, sonne to the great king Brandismell of England, and him onely my Father doubted, as sundry times before hee acquainted me withall. Weighing then aduisedly the va­lour of this young knight, he began somwhat to dispayre of the issue of his attempt, and as in this thought he stood pen­siue and troubled, he concluded to put in practise, what here­tofore was sayd by the great Lacedemonian Admirall Ly­sander, to wit: that where the Lyons skinn [...] fell out to short to peece it out with the Foxes case: minding to vse indu­strie and cunning in these affayres, where hee thought strength and manhood might happen to fayle, hauing to deale with such mightie and puissant aduersaries.

In this determination, vnderstanding that the great king Belligande of Gaule had a Launce, the yron poynte whereof was so inchanted, as all such as were touched ther­with should bee dismounted: eyther by sleight or force hee resolued to be possessed thereof, imagining which of these meanes were lykest to speed, and to aduenture both rather then fayle of his intent.

To bring about this stratageme, he went with all speed into the realme of Gaule, where beeing, hee heard that in a Forrest appertayning to that kingdome, dwelt a certaine man, which termed himselfe a knight, but commonly hee was called the cunning Théefe: and so subtill was hee in robbing, as nothing could escape his fingering, and all his [Page] attempts were so artificially compassed, as such as had lost any thing, or were otherwise robbed, presently the blame of their losse was imputed to him: he likewise séeing each one estéeme him such a famous thée [...]e, and so admire his sleights and pollicies, tooke great pleasure therein, and oftentimes would sit solemnly smiling thereat.

To this man the king my father foorthwith trauailed, and promised him very large summes of money, if he could rob the king of this enchaunted Launce, which he so safelie kept in his Cabinet, as it was thought impossible to get it thence. The cause why hee held it with such vigilant care, was for the loue of a fayrie named Oziris, who thereof had made a present to him: hoping withall hereafter to leaue it to a sonne of his, which as yet was but a very yong in­fant. Notwithstanding the great difficultie consisting in this busines: yet in respect of the large summe of money, the théefe promised to deliuer this Launce into my fathers hand, as he did the day after my father had this conference with him, but first he thus bespake him. Knight, quoth he to the king my father (in that hee had no other knowledge of him) it is necessarie, if yee would haue this Launce, that to morrow you goe with me to the great Cittie of Poictiers, where the king of Gaule at this present maketh his abode, and where hee is determined to holde a generall tourney, because as to morrow is the day, when he wan the victorie against the Giant Perceuall, who had long time before greatly trauayled and molested him with warre. I will stay for ye néere the place where the Torney is to bee kept, and you shall go to the king, telling him that I am the Knight Lorgolio, Cosen to the Giant Perceuall, whom hee slew by treason: wherefore I am come to defie him in combate man to man, to reuenge the death of the Giant my Cosen: with which reuenge I should thinke my selfe satisfied, might I but breake a couple of Launces with himselfe, no other in his defence to offer me iniurie: beside, hee shall not streng­then [Page] himselfe with his enchaunted Launce, whereby my Cosen receiued his death, and for better assurance heereof, he shall deliuer that Launce into your hand to keepe wh [...]le we Ioust, which I am assured he will not refuse to do: thus may you depart, and beare away the Launce with yee: but if this deuise should faile vs, assure your selfe that quickly we will finde another: for I will receiu [...] no money of yee, before yée haue this Launce so much desired, in your pos­session.

My father liked well of this councell, and (to make short) it came to passe euen as the theefe had before deuised: for the king of Gaule hearing the defiance, and weening that all my father tolde was true, made no doubte of giuing the Launce into his hand, and my father being possessed thereof while the king of Gaule went to put on better Armour: both he and the cunning theefe departed, so that none could tell what was become of them. The king and all his Court (at the first tidings hereof) was greatly abashed, but vn­derstanding soone after the cause of this theft, and who was the inuenter of this pollicie: it was made but a merrie iest of. In the end (notwithstanding) this pleasure did not so con­continue, but this fine theefe, fearing to be taken, was glad to flye from the kingdome of Gaule, and passed thence in­to England, where afterwarde hee liued and remained a long time.

As for the king my father, he returned againe by Sea to Lisbone, and from thence to Saragossa, where the king Dori­ [...]o then held Courte, where beeing arriued, he behaued him­selfe so well with this slie gotten Launce, as all the knights that Iousted against him, yea, euen the braue knight Flori­dament, were foyled and dismounted to the ground: where­ [...]t the Princesse Pollyda (who bare no loue at all to the king my father) beeing greatly displeased, would haue re­ [...]used the mariage before agreed vppon by the king Dori­ [...]o: saying that for her parte, shee had giuen no consent, [Page] and without the Brides consent, hardly can any mariage be accorded, especially with such a one to whome shee could not vse any affection.

Héereat the king my father being highly offended, in fu­rie flunge foorth of the Spanish kings court, giuing him many hard tauntes and iniurious speeches, for the di [...]oy­altie that he sayd remained in him. On the other side, the king was full of rage and anger against the infant his daughter, whom he ceased not dayly to perswade, that shee should like well of marrying with king Diegonde of Lusi­tauia, least his credit and reputation should be condemned, in vsing trecherie and per [...]idie to so great a Prince. So what thorow loue and pleasing spéeches, as also force and frowning countenances, in the end she yeelded to his wyll. But this was after the Lady had had conference with a no­ble and excellent Fayrie, named Ozyris, who had beene greatly helping in her birth, endowing her with manifolde vertues and riches of spirit, for which she was not a little commended: and after the decease of her mother, Sister to king Barachen of Scotland, she had sometime nourished her in her rich inuinsible palace, which was in the realme of great Brittaine, and euer afterward shee perswaded her, that she should not marie with any liuing man, which was the cause shee helde so aloofe from this aforesaid marri­age.

After she had well schooled her concerning this matter, the noble and vertuous Fayrie sayd, that in respect children by the diuine lawe) ought obedience to theyr parents, and it was her fathers will she should match with the king Die­gonde, who alreadie had doone so much for her looue, and was euen readie to despaire if he fayled thereof: shee coun­celled her not to withstand her fathers appointment. And although in former time she had diswaded her from mari­age, it was because she discerned by her skill, that such issue as discended from her in mariage (if shee fortuned to haue [Page] any) should haue hard hap, and prooue very vnfortunate, which would be such gréefe both to her husband, as the grea­ter part of theyr youth would bee spent in greefe and pen­siuenesse. Notwithstanding, if this marriage must néedes be accomplished, she promised to vse the matter in such sort, as by this coniunction she should neuer haue child. And so found she meanes to comfort them sufficiently, as heerafter yee shall vnderstand the manner how, without iniurie to the beautifull Pollydon: but my father (by himselfe and his) should féele the euill and misfortune, whereto yet she pro­mised a day of finall conclusion.

The Princely maide giuing credit to hir propheticall speeches, was greatly comforted and satisfied, and so resol­ued to marie with the king my father: after which deter­mination once knowne, soone was hee sent for by the King Dorino, when with great pleasure and content to euery one, he espoused Pollyda, with her he liued more then twen­tie yeares, yet could he haue no issue by her, which so gree­ued him, confounding his thoughts with sadnes and melan­cholly, as the most part of the time he eat his bread in mone and teares: for I imagine it a meruaylous hart breake to a man that desires to liue after his death, and perpetuate his memorie by his children: to sée his mariage consumed without any generation, that might make mention of him when he is dead. And such (heerefore) was his intire conceit of gréefe, as oftentimes he meant to repudiate his Queene Pollyda: but such againe was the woondrous loue he bare her, fearing to offend God, and displease king Dorino her father: as hee was still diswaded when such thoughts en­tred his fantasie. All this likewise the Queene very well noted, and notwithstanding her former despisings, yet after her marriage she loued him exceedingly, pittying his gréefe, but shaddowing her owne so much as possibly she could, sée­king by all meanes to remedie both, as in the end she did, by the aduise and counsell of the wise Ozyris, who euery daye [Page] and in all places assisted her, perswading her to doe as fol­loweth. One of her wayting Damosels, whome my father vsed good countenance towards, because she was of perfect beautie, being named Olympia, daughter to he Duchesse of Terciede, a chaste and prudent dame: with her the Fayrie aduised the Queene, that my father should haue dalliance. She following this councell, one night when the king my father sent woord to haue her company in bed: so cunning­lie handled the matter, that this damosell lay there insteed of her, for the maide was likewise secretly amourous of the king, which was the cause, that (being where she would be) she disliked not this swéet and pleasant deceit, but without any shew of displeasure, shee gladly endured the kings pa­stime with her, séeing the Quéene was so well content to af­foord her her place and priuiledge. To such effect grew my fathers labours, who little thought he was thus beguiled: as the Maide was conceiued with childe: when afterward the Queene comming to sleepe with the King, sayd that she felt her selfe conceiued, answerable to his so long desire, for which good fortune hee should applaude the heauens, from whence procéeded so great good to her. Héereof was the king my father glad, thinking the Quéene had tolde the trueth indéed, as within short while after, he minded to goe on pil­grimage, to pray at the holy Sepulcher of Iesus Christ, and returning thence, to visit Saint Iames in Galicia, at each place to thanke God for this fortunate euent.

Beeing thus resolued, one day hee secretly departed in disguised garments (feigning some other excuse) to accom­plish his intended voyage, in which time (beeing the space almost of a whole yeare) it chaunced that the fayre Olym­pia was deliuered of me, to the great content and pleasure of Quéene Pollyda, who nine moneths together feigned her selfe with childe, though but meere dissimulation: and vsing the Damosels deliuerance as her owne, gaue generally to be knowne by some of her, fauourites and moste familiar [Page] Ladies, that this long expect [...]d fruite had issued from her owne bodie. And to the end this mysterie might not be dis­couered, the wise Ozyris tooke to her inuisible Fairie house or Pallace, the faire Olympia my mother, where euer after she continued of selfe same nature as her other nimphes and faires, among whom at this present she is most beloued, as I certainly knowe by such reuelations that her selfe hath showne me. Now the king my father being ignorant of all these things, was so glad when he returned from his voyage to sée me growne to a prittie porte or stature, and that the Quéene was not sicklie or felt such paynes as other do after their deliuerie: as all his care now was for my education and instruction, not onely in curious weauing and sowing, but also of good letters, especiallie poesie and musique, per­ceiuing my voyce apt and proper for singing.

Héerein likewise did the Quéenes care agrée with his, and so dearely did shee looue me, as if I had beene indéed a braunche of her owne bodie: for neuer wente shee to any place, but still I must accompany her, through which con­tinuall association, it happened one day among the rest, that she would needes ride on hunting, a pastime wherein she tooke excéeding pleasure. I being with her, the hounds egerly pursuing the graue, and she chasing that things fad­ged not according to her minde, roade so fast that wee had soone lost one another.

The space of a whole day almost, remained I thus alone in this meruaylous great forrest, wearyed and spent with séeking to finde my company againe, till at length by good happe I came to a fayre and cléere fountaine, from whence streamed foorth a swift gliding riuer, that made his course quite thorow the forrest: where alighting from my horsse, to rest and refresh my selfe on the soft tender hearbes that grewe about the banckes of the fountaine, I had not long sitten there in this sorte, but the fayre Olympia my mo­ther appeared in sight vnto mee in the habit of a Nimphe, [Page] at whose sudden sight I was greatly amazed. But with her swéet and gratious language, she deliuered my heart from feare and dismaying, recounting to me (as in a dainty com­piled historie) the whole discourse of my birth, in manner and forme as you haue heard, albeit somewhat more at large.

Moreouer she told me, how the mightie and skilfull Fay­rie Ozyris her Mistr [...]sse, had disclosed to her, that by the craft and meanes of an old abhominable Necromancian, named Charonyfer, should bee nourished a cruell and hideous mon­ster called the Polyppe, whose crueltie and puissance should be doubted and feared ouer the whole earth. This beast, to iniurie both her and me, should one day steale me from my parents and friends, to keepe me in extreame miserie and thraldome, vntill the best knight in the world, nourished and brought vp by this Fayrie as her owne childe, albeit extracted originallie from the best, puissant and most vertu­ous king aliue: should trauaile to the place of my imprison­ment, and there by his prowesse and valiancie (killing the monster) deliuer me out of captituitie.

Beside this, shee tolde mee, that during the last seauen yeares of my detayning and miserie, a young noble man, brother to Quéene Pollyda, to hinder the monster from kil­ling me, should follow me to the place where I was impri­sonned, and there each day for six yeares space, changing in­to as many sundrie formes as the monster, should combate with him for my libertie: yet all his endeuours would prooue in vaine, because the monster was onely to be slaine by the knight of the Fayrie Ozyris. And to let me know when the last yeere of my miserie should ensue, she said, that from the beginning thereof, the noble man (who loued mee with perfect loue) should be changed into a Foule or Bird of straunge sort, in which shape dayly would hee come to visit and sée me, euen vntill the Polyppe were slaine, when hee should receiue his manly shape againe, and the day of the [Page] Polyppes death, should bee the finall extermination of my miserie.

After she had imparted to me all these things, she threw foorth such a perfume of Poppie vppon me, as (from the end of her discourse) I slept so soundly by the Fountaines side, that I neyther sawe or heard when shee departed: and as some while I continued in this sléepe, Queene Pollyda not a little displeased for my losse, hauing with her traine sought thorow the forrest, came at last and found me where I slept, when gently awaking me, wee thence departed a­gaine into the Cittie.

Within a while after, it chanced, that by the aduise of the king my father, and his Queene Pollyda, I was sent to king Dorino my imagined Grand-father, who desired to haue me néere him, because he verely thought me to be his daughters childe, by reason whereof he wunderouslie loued me. Hauing continued certaine yeares in his Court, this young Prince heere present, named Phinander, youngest sonne to king Dorino, and brother to king Dorian, that at this day gouernes ouer the Spaniards, beeing equall in yeares with me, taking me for so néere in kindered to him: spent the time of his infancie with me, and I in like sorte with him.

Among these pastimes and sportes of children, it happe­ned that we became amourous of ech other, and that in such manner, as we could not endure long without each others sight: which loue each one imagined to growe by naturall affection, that so neere kinne doe customablie beare one to another, and the young Prince verily perswaded himselfe, that the iouissance of our loue might not bee compassed, be­cause of the prohibition of Christian laws, concerning ma­riage betweene so neere kindred as we séemed to be. Héere­vpon, séeing him one day very sad and pensiue, being alone in the Garden, I faithfully discouered to him the manner of my birth, according as my swéete mother Olympia before [Page] had tolde me: which highly, comforted him, causing both in him and me farre greater affecton to each other, if more might be then was commenced before. Our passions were still worne out with honest sollace and pleasure, expecting that the long delay of time should minister more intire de­light of our loues, according to the honest desire abiding in eyther of vs: but both our hope and desire were suddenly squandered, by a new and strange accident that immediatly followed.

Knowe then gentle Sir, that the daye when the Prince Dorian, eldest sonne to the king of Spaine, br [...]ught to his fathers court the fayr [...] princesse Amarylla, daughter to the King of Gaule, whome hee had newly espoused, there was speech of nothing else but ioye and sollace: in middest of which pleasure, this wicked monster which you haue slaine, entered the great hall of the Pallace with a most horrible noyse and crie, which made the Ladyes in such affright, as each one [...]led for safetie of themselues, yea, though there were present many braue and hardie knights, yet beeing vnarmed, and thereby not fit to vse resistance, some ranne with spéed to get on theyr armour, and others to saue them­selues from death. By this meanes the Polyppe had leisure to make choyse of mee, among all the other Ladyes of the courte, and after he had caught me fast in his armes, with­out any stay, he ran ouer the land and sea, what of his owne nature, and by the enchauntments of that curssed Magitian, who gaue wings to his course: that in short time (astonnied and néere hand dead with feare) he brought me to this place, where euer since I haue remained in greefe and torments, liuing the most part of this dolefull season, with raw flesh, and other viands, sometime good, sometime bad, such as the monster did eat himselfe: but to speake truth, since his first [...]aking me, he neuer made semblance of any wrong to mee: but from day to day I s [...]w how his rigour encreased, and if he had fayled of his pray, or could not get it so conueni­ently [Page] as he would, I iudged that my selfe at last should haue serued to slake his hunger. But at the beginning, my deere mother Olympia so assisted me, and from time to time gaue me so good councell: as (by many slight subtilties and in­uentions) I appeased his anger toward me, euen vntill this prince arriued heere: for yee must note withall, that from the first day of my surprising, as I haue beene assured by my mother, and since by him, that hee ceased not to followe the monster, and to enquire the place of his adode, when (after long and painfull trauaile) he found it: and one day when the monster was abroad, hee aduentured to come sée and speake with me, when I aduised him, as I did you, to beegon, least hee should chance to be taken or slaine by the Po­lyppe. He giuing credit to my words, went to the king of this country, who is the king of Assiria, a meruailons migh­tie, courteous, and debonnarie knight, to whome making himselfe knowne, and my misfortune: the good king (that diuers times had layd ambushes for this monster, because hee had ruined and wasted all this countrey, yet by no meanes could be slaine or taken) caused an assembly of most part of the best knights of his Courte, intending to assayle this deuill, and deliuer me from my miserie: but such slen­der successe tooke this attempt, as in one day (by force and illusion of his manifold shapes) he slew more then thrée hun­dred of them: and if the king had longer continued his p [...]r­suite, himselfe had likewise perished. Wherefore with this l [...]sse hee left off, and would no more enterprise my deliue­rance, whereat this prince conceiued such vnkindnes, as in teares and greefe he went to a forrest, which is six or seauen leagues distant from this place, where weeping and lamen­ting day and night, continually he called for death to end his affliction. Then appeared to him, the powerful and wise O­ [...]yris, who comforted him with future hope of my release, al­ [...]it it would be long before, euen seauen whole yeres: du­ [...]ng which time, y ^• he might liue safe (els had he no hope of [Page] continuance) she changed him into the forme of a wylde and sauage beast, giuing him power likewise to alter himselfe into so many shapes as the Polyppe changed: sauing at his last fight he should receiue the nature of a Byrd, and could no more attaine the forme of a foure footed beast, but might varie into sundrie shapes of Birdes.

The Prince being thus transformed, came euery day six yeeres together to combate with the Polyppe, without van­quishing or beeing vanquished, though all the day they would not rest from theyr trauaile, but fought most furi­ouslie, euen to the beginning of the seauenth yeere, when he changed into the likenesse of Foule as you beheld him: for this is the Bird that flutterd on the Trée at your arriuall, who since the Polyppe was slaine by your vertue, hath now recouered his former humaine shape: and for him sung I the song you heard at your first comming, which in that ma­ner I composed in mine owne language. Thus haue you heard sir knight the whole estate of my aduenture, what yet remaineth, yee may be satisfied in by mee: so tooke the La­dyes tale an end, and therewith will I likewise ende this Chapter.

CHAP. 12.

[Page] THe Historie saith, that after the Lady had thus ended her discourse: the fayrie Knight, who made no little maruayle of the aduenture, thus answered. Ladie, right glad am I that I haue slaine the monster, which offred ye so much wrong and iniurie, for some other occasion, that made me so earnest in desire to combate with him, to wit, desire of acquiring honor and renowme, for which knights valiant doe often put theyr liues in ieopardie: beside, be­cause in performance heere of, I haue doone something plea­sing to the noble dame Ozyris, towards whom I am, and by whom onely I hold my life: if then for the loue of her, and fayre Olympia your mother, well knowne to me, and who in these combates hath greatly succoured mee, likewise for the looue of this prince heere present, and vertue abiding in your selfe: if I can do any other seruice profitable and plea­sing to yee, I would make spare of no trauaile whatsoeuer, so I might accomplish any thing to your contentment. And were I not bound by a solemne vow neuer to take rest, till I haue found a knight whom I séeke, which constraines me God knowes how farre in his search, to reuenge the death of my friend slaine by him: I assure yee, that gladly would I accompany yee to the Courte of your father, the king of Lusitania, where neuerthelesse one day (by Gods helpe) I hope to sée ye, with more ease and ioy then I haue at this in­stant, but thither shall this worthie Lord kéepe ye good and loyall companie.

As Gerileon spake these words, and further would haue proceeded, his purpose was preuented by the sudden course of a goodly horsse, that trayled along a Knight well néere [Page] [...]ead, hanging by one foote in the stirrop, and holding a Launce in his hand: but the Fayrie knight catching the horsse by the bridle, tooke of the knights Helmet, where he found a very dangerous wound in his head, then getting his foote foorth of the stirrop, perceiuing some life yet re­mained in him, and that hee was not but in an amazed [...]raunce: with the helpe of the prince Phynander and the La­die Orphisa he was recouered againe. Beeing come to him­selfe, he knew well the place where hee was, which made him thus speake to Gerileon. For Gods sake sir knight help vs, and let vs quickly get vs hence, for héere [...]wels the most cruell and inhumaine monster of the world, who as yet (I hope) hath not séene vs, therefore I aduise ye presently to be gon: as for my selfe, I had rather bee dead then tarry in a place so daungerous as this is. Feare not the monster you speake of (quoth the Fayrie knight) for if hee that hath thus shrewdly dealt with you, had had no more power then the monster at this instant [...]at, you should be more healthfull and in better disposition then ye are.

I sée well (sayd th [...] wounded knight) that you haue not heard the inexpugnall force of the Sauage Polyppe, for if ye had once experimented it: yee would sorbeare to talke of him, and tary in this place lesse while then yee doe. I know more of him then you doe, quoth the fayrie knight, for you know nothing but by heare say: and that which I knowe is by experience, the mistresse of vertue, and true discouerer of all things. And to let yee sée that I speake not by hart, I will giue ye some instance. Then taking the knight by the hand, he shewed him the Sauage monster dead, which when he beheld, hee trembled as full of feare and astonnishment, as if he knew not whether this [...] a dreame or a certain­ [...]ie: and beholding well Gerillions countenance, sayd. Sir knight, haue you then beene one that [...] this monster to his death? surely I beleeue, that since you had the stomack to come so neere, in vsing courage against him while hee [Page] [...]ed, and are one of the braue [...]rmie that hath discomfited him: you dare as boldly doo something for the Christians, and I iudge if yee be a Christian, and such a one as I ima­gine ye to be, you will not refuse to reuenge the shame and outrage that hath beene offered me. Beleeue me Sir, quoth the Fayrie knight, I am a true Christian, and to any, bee they Persians, Arabians, Syrians or Assirians, I would giue succour according to my power and their necessitie: wherefore I pray ye tell me, in what affaires haue the chri­stians need to vse my helps, and who hath thus vnmanlie outraged yee: to the end I may assuredly giue them assist­ance, and also do my endeuour to auenge your wrong, tell me the trueth, without any further feare of the monster, concerning both the one and other, Sir answered the knight héerein will I gladly satisfie yee, but because I haue verie much to discouer, if I should recount each necessarie pointe therto belonging, that ye may the more bréefely vnderstand these high affaires: I wil shorten the discourse conueniently as I may, reueling nothing but the very principal matters.

Know then sir that I am a knight, my natiue countrey is the kingdome of Persia, neere to the great cittie of Tau­ris, and not long since was I sent in company of twelue o­ther knights, with the strong & puissant Ariodant, a knight of great reputation, neere coosen to the mightie Mutiuell king of Persia, who was elected and chosen by the greater part of the inhabitants of that countrey (to goe to the great Emperour of Constantinople, to intreate his succour for a multitude of good knights and christian souldiours, whom the young prince Mauspasian, brother to the great Sophie of Persia, very straitlye besieged in the citties of Susa and Tau­ris, beside diuers other places of the Persians kingdome. And to the end ye may know wherefore we went, ye must note, that (some while since) the great Sophie, a man worthie of great dignity, for the high prowes where with he is indued, hauing séene a portrait curiously drawn▪ of the faire princes [Page] of Constantinople, daughter to the Emperour: became so carryed away with the loue of this most beautifull Ladie, as he immediatly resolued to make her his wife, what ha­zard or aduenture so euer stood thereon. And to compasse the same, he sent ambassadours to the Emperours, to demaund her in marriage, but the Emperour at that time made re­fusall, because hee was contrary to him in religion, and it was not lawfull for a Christian to marrie with a Pagan, neither for a Christian to ioyne in any conuersation with a heathen. Which was the cause (to take away this diffi­cultie, which onely séemed to hinder the mariage) that the great Sophie of Persia with all his people would become Christians, and should be baptized. And because the popu­lar sort should frame their actions, and fashion their man­ners answerable to their king: himselfe was the first that receiued holy baptisme, and commanded in all the countries of his kingdome, that the Christian law should be anounced and preached. Which being doone according to his will and commaund, many willingly receiued the faith and religi­on: others finding the alteration very strange, withdrew themselues in displeasure: some other that would not at all receiue it, but were constrained thereto, thought better to forsake their houses, lands and possessions, to liue in ano­ther kingdome with libertie of conscience, and so continue the rest of their liues in the Pagan law. After these things were thus ordered, it chaunced that the king absented him­selfe, so that no one could tell what was become of him: some sayd, that as in former times hee had beene accustomed, so now (like a knight [...]rrant) he was gon in search of strange and perillous aduentures, with especiall intent to make proofe and combate body to body, with the puissant Nabot and Squamell, who were counted the most hardie knights in the world. Others sayd, that being transported with this amourous passion, hee was gon to the Emperour of Con­stantinople, to demaund of him the Princesse his daughter: [Page] for if he found her to be of such [...]erfect beautie, as the Pain­ter by his art had discouered, surely by force or fayre means he intended to haue her. But which way so euer hee tooke, very true it is, that soone after his departure, the Prince Mauspasian his brother, whom hee had left to gouerne the Realme in his absence, would by force of armes compell such as had abiured the pagan lawe, and were become chri­stians: to take againe their former religion, saying, that what the king his brother had doone and intended to doo, was but onely to induce the Christian Emperour, with more ease to graunt the marriage of the princesse his daughter. And because there was no likelyhood by that meane to obtaine her, by force he minded (after his returne) to haue the Lady, and this Mauspasian said that the Sophie had disclosed to him. But all would not giue credit to his spéeches, for many resisted to doo as he commanded, thus vrging the contrary: that séeing they found the Christian religion good and profitable to their consciences, as also the saluation of their soules, séeing likewise their king had cau­sed them to vndertake that religion and beléefe, and since had giuen them no commaund to the contrary: the present Go­uernour (being but a deputie) ought not constraine them to forgoe the religion, but the same king might do it when he should be present. Beside, what once he had so fréely granted and established, could not so suddenly displease him, to the preiudice of his people, for as they did owe loyaltie and fi­delitie to their prince, by submission which they voluntari­lie made to his power: so are all princes bound againe to­ward their people, to guarde, defend and kéepe them by his power, and to entertaine them vnder the obedience and as­surance of conuentions, made betweene them and the laws of the land.

Upon this debate rose many perticuler quarrels and par­tialities, betwéene such as had auouched Christianitie, and them that continued idolaters to their false Gods, who ha­uing [Page] chosen the Prince M [...]uspasian for theyr head and go­uernour: withdrew themselues to their houses, and forci­blie would depriue them (of the other part) of theyr houses and possessions, whereby is nowe growne in Persia a ciuill warre, the most straunge and cruell that euer was. For be­tweene the inhabitants of on selfe same kingdome, hath al­readie beene séene sundry bloodie battels, where on each side are, slaine many Christians and Pagans, especially two most signall and markable persons: one on the coast of Ty­risir, where the Christians by the prowesse and valiancie of the braue knight Ariodant, wun the day, and draue the In­fidels in disorder: the other neere the cittie of Tauris, where the Pagans had ioyned with their forces the ayde of the Medes, Syrians, A [...]irians, and Arabes, compelled the chri­stians to flye the field, with great losse of their men, to make themselues strong in the citties of Tauris, Susa, and diuers o­ther townes beside, where they are at this instant begirt with very sharpe siedge. So despairing of theyr former trust in God, the valiant prince Ariodant, determined secret­lie to leaue the cittie of Tauris, where hee was Generall of the Christians, accompanyed onely with twelue chosen knights (among whom I was one) to go require ayde of the Emperour of Constantinople against the Pagans, with pro­mise to subiect to the Christian Empire, all the whole Mo­narchie of Persia. As we were on the way to effect our voy­age, by ill hay we met (about a league hence) a troupe of Pa­gans, consisting of about three hundred men, all well ap­pointed, and knights of marke, who hauing pitched theyr pauillions in a medowe that butted harde vppon our way: we quickly were descryed vnto them, and knowing by our En [...]ignes, as also the badge of the crosse (which all of vs bare open in our armes) that we were Christians: they cryed a­loud, that we should passe no further, without speaking to theyr prince and conducter, who was the puis [...]ant king of Thuris, named Adylas, and was there in a very [...]ayre large [Page] lion, minding to vnderstand what we were, that hee might make further enquiry of the Per [...]an warre. Now albeit this rude summons was greeuous to vs, yet we durst not refuse to go speake with the king Adylas, perswading our selues, that although he was a Pagan, yet would [...] be no enemie to vs, as wee were aduertised a daye before, beeing in quest of his coosen germaine the king of Phez, one of the hardyest knights in the world. He questioned with vs concerning the affayres of Persia, wherein the prince Ariodant truly an­swered him, as also both what hee and wee were, with the present occasion of our iourney: wherevpon hee would ar­rest and detayne vs as prisoners, a thing very yrkes [...]me to vs, and which we were not able to endure, but more gladly would loose our liues, then see our selues captiue in our e­nemies hands, and subiected to their wils. Heerevpon wee fell to our best endeuour, that our foes might get no aduan­tage of vs, and in such sorte did wee defend our selues, that twentie of them were layd dead on the ground, before any of vs sustayned any iote of harme. Which when the king Adylas perceiued, immediatly hee put himselfe in armes, and hauing assembled all his people, assayled vs so fiercely, that six or seauen of my companions were slaine outright, the other taken prisoners, and my selfe escaped in such plight as you now beholde mee, but the prince Ariodant I hope is fled like wise.

Thus heare yee (sir Knight) the estate of my misfor­tune, for releefe wherein, and to reuendge my iniurie re­ceiued, I desire that wee might haue one bought more with them, assuring yee for certaintie, that whatsoeuer my harme alreadie is, yet could I imploye and bestirre my selfe a fresh: but I see wee shall be so feeble, that all our cou­rage will bee but friuolous and vayne, and accounted as cowardise.

The wounded Knight hauing thus spoken, presently fell into a swoune, which greatly greeued Gerileon, who did [Page] his best to helpe him: and hauing ransacked his golden bottle, wherein the Nimphe Olympia brought him the pre­cious vngents, that healed his woundes receiued from the Polyppe: he got out a little, which he applied to the knights wound, when soone after hee felt himselfe of more able dis­position, and this beeing doone, how they resolued, yee shall read heereafter.

CHAP. 13.

THe daye after the Persian knight had recounted all his aduenture to Gerileon, according as ye haue read in the former Chapter: they departed from the Polyppes Den, to goe combate with Adylas and his people, and albeit imminent death stood before theyr eyes, yet could nothing withdrawe them from such a daungerous enterprise, as not the intreats of Phynander and the fayre Orphisa, who by many meanes la­boured to diswade them to the contrary. For the Fayrie knight euermore resolued, not for dread of death to let slip any opportunitie, when he might combate or performe any generous act, whence might growe fame and reputation, the onely wadges for a man of valour and vertue. And as for the Persian knight, it was such despight to him to bee [Page] vanquished: that as a man h [...]lfe desperate, an hundred times he wished the fatall death, so he might in any sort re­uenge the shame and iniurie doone him, then feare of death was no matter for him to stand vppon. In this enflamed desire, ta [...]ing their leaue of Phynander and Orphisa, (who were verye pensiue for Gerileons departure, both mounted on the horsse of Taffinor, for so was the Persian knights name, hauing betweene them but one Launce, which Ge­rileon bare that sate in the saddle: in this sort they rode a­way, and not farre had they trauayled, but they met an o­ther horse (readie sadled, the bridle lying vppon his neck) softly pacing in the field they rode thorow. Taffinor imme­diatly knew the horsse, and that one of his companions had beene mounted thereon, who beeing slaine by Adylas his Souldiours, ran now ranging from place to place. Taffinor lightly leaping from behinde Gerileon, made such shift that he tooke the horsse, and getting quicklye vp into the seate, they both spurred away with all possible speede. In shorte time they came to the place where Ariodant and his compa­nions had beene discomfited, and Adylas this day intended to dislodge with his pauillions, that hee might meet Mau­spasian at Tauris, there to deliuer such prisoners to him as he had gotten from Ariodant.

Beeing come into this place, they were soone espyed by one of the knights of the king of Thunis, this knight was named Argontes, one of the most faithfull friends to the king, and as valiant as any in all the troope, hee beeing by chaunce first mounted in this preparation of departure, sit­ting with a huge strong Launce auaunced vpon his thigh. This was the first man, that néedes would knowe what these two knights were, who durst with such boldnes come so néere their hoste. For this purpose, and without speaking woord to any one, he galloped with a swift carrire towards them, and when he was so neere, that hee might easily dis­cerne them to be straungers: he slacked his pace, when the [Page] first hee must needes speak [...] to, was the Fayri [...] knight, to whom arrogantly he thus began. Be stirre ye fellows, and come after me to king Adylas my Lord, to tell him of whence ye are, and what ye seeke in this place: for I take yee to be spyes, sent hither (to worke some treason) by these Christi­ans, that are mustered vp in the Cittie of Tauris: otherwise I would presently slice yee in such small gobbets, as a Ra­uen might easily beare in his beake the biggest piece of your bodyes. Freend, quoth Gerileon, I thinke yee meane not so ill as yee speake, for no such matter appeares in your countenance. But setting a parte these tearmes of braue­rie, I pray ye goe tell king Adylas your maister, that heere is a knight errant, accompanyed with one of those Christi­an knights, whom lately (both causelesse and verye shame­fully) he monstrously abused. Say I bid him, (if he be a man of woorth or any valour) that immediatly he come foorth in equipage conuenable for the combate, and accompanyed with such an other: to make this knight amends, and to repayre the wrong doone to Ariodant, in charging his troope with too much aduantage, and thereby entermedled with affayres neither touching or concerning him. If he will not doo it, I say he is a villaine and a traytour: for were he not so, he would not offer offence to any one, without habiliti [...] of meanes to make requitall. By my faith, answered Ar­gontes, thou art a very foole, in comming hether to be kild with credit, and to let thee know, how much better it had beene for thée to haue kept thée quiet, then trauaile to this place with such mallepart kinde of language: I will not suffer that the king my Lorde, nor any of his people but my selfe onely, shall teach thée against another time better wis­dome, as also to speake more aduisedly, and therefore stand vppon thy guarde. In vsing these words, he drew back, that his horsse might haue his course, and hee vayle his Launce against Gerileon: who made so little account therof, that he reserued his labour to better effect then the Pagan did, and [Page] therefore shrunke aside to scape the attaint. Héereat Taffinor was gretly abashed, thinking he did it by cowardise, or feare to meddle with the Pagan, which made him imagine euill of him, and nothing at all to regard him, as Argontes did like­wise: who finishing his race to no purpose, prepared to­ward Taffinor, calling him to the Ioust, which hee refused because hee had no Launce. But laying hand to his sword for the combate, hee brauely made against the Pagan, who likewise let go his Launce, and drew out his swoord to en­tertaine him: which Gerileon perceiuing, and doubting the length of theyr fight would growe too tedious, whil [...] the Pagans beeing so neere them, might charge them in greater number, then they should bee able to deale withall, or with­stand, séeing himselfe likewise vnprouided of a swoord, for ye haue heard how his was broken in combate with the Sa­uage Polyppe: he foorthwith determined to kill the Pagan, because he would be possessed of his weapon, which he ima­gined no hard matter to compasse, as in verye déed it was not: for running against him with meruaylous violence, he gaue him such a peazant knocke with the butte end of his launce, as ouerthrew both his horsse and him to the ground, and strugling vnder the horsse, that trampled very heauily vpon him, there both his pride, arrogancie and life ended all together. This done, Gerileon alighted and tooke his sword, saying to Taffinor, that therewith he would send more of his companions after him: which Taffinor beeing not a little ioyfull to heare, returned this answere. Now haue I good hope Sir, that (by your meanes) I shall bee auenged of the outragious wrongs doone me by the Pagans, and were our [...]appe so fortunate, that Ariodant would returne to succour vs, (as thereof I am assured if hee bee not dead, for hee is a prince impacient of iniurie:) wee might easilye ouercome and vanquish the hoste of Adylas. For amongst them all himselfe is most redoubted, being so good and able a knight of person, as there are few in Persia that can equall him in [Page] soundnes of chiualrie: nor could wee haue beene conquered by his souldiours, had not he put to his helping hand.

In middest of this talke, whilst Gerileon armed himselfe with the swoord of dead Argontes, and Taffinor with his Launce, Adylas caused the Trumpets to be sounded, decla­ring his departure from the place, where he had beene en­camped and soiourned so many dayes together: at which in­stant he called for Argontes his faithfull freend, but he could not be found in all the hoste, then commaunding to vnder­stand what was become of him, ten or twelue knights of the troupe tooke the same waye, they saw him gallop before. At last they beheld the two Christian knights, riding with vnconquerable countenance towards the Tents of Adylas and a little further off they sawe Argontes dead, his horsse likewise lying beating with his hooues vppon him, not a­ble to rise: whereat they were enflamed with such rage, (for Argontes was well and deerely beloued of all Adylas hoste) as they could no longer containe their furie, but forci­blie made against the Christian knights. Against Gerileon foure of them brake their Launces, without any further iniurie vnto him: but hee had better successe, for the first he met, felt so soundly the sharpnes of his launce, as piercing quite thorow his bodie, layd him dead on the earth. Two other that ma [...]e out after these foure, began very fiercely to assaile Taffinor: but for all that they vnhorssed him not, yet one of them receiued a deadly wound on his shoulder at his hand, and so was forced to fall to the ground. They that came after, hauing their swordes naked in their handes, couragiously aduentured on the Christian knights, who be­ing ready prepared, receiued the valiant strokes of the Pa­gans on their sheelds, without any hurt vnto their bodyes: marie each of them stood so stiffely to the Pagans, as Gerile­on sent one of their heads roundlie from his shoulders, and Taffinor slicing off an others arme from his bodye, made both Gerileons stroke and his owne agree in an hermonie: [Page] for the first Pagan dyed immediatly, and the other caught such a sudden sicknes, as his bloud ab [...]undantly streaming foorth, called his life soone after. The rest of their compa­nions were not a little amazed heereat, especially at the puissant strokes of Gerileon, with the exceeding vertue, va­liancie and addresse that they discerned in him, so that sixe of theyr fellowes lying dead before theyr faces, the other fearefully fled to the troupe of Adylas, that they might to him declare theyr misfortune: but they were followed e­uen thither by Gerileon and Taffinor, at whose hardinesse Adylas stood greatly abashed, and the rather, because (in his presence) Gerileon ouertaking two of the tardyest fu­gitiues, from one he lopt the eare, cheeke, and shoulder, to­gether, and tooke off the others head so neatly, as if the kée­nest Rasor in the world had beene the instrument.

All the troupe standing affrighted heereat, durst not boudge one foote, but taryed to heare the pleasure of theyr king, who was surprised with no common kinde of pen­siuenes, imagining that Gerileon was one of the Gods whom he adored, to wit, Mars the God of battailes, and (as they supposed) that hee was highly displeased with them. When hee beheld what hauock the Fayrie knight made of his people, hee came foorth from the middest of his troupe, to know for certaintie what he was, and if he were one of theyr gods, with praiers, oblations and sacrifices he would appease his anger: but Gerileon that made no regarde of such folly, prepared to endure the braue against all the rest. And for this cause, hee entred further in among them with Taffinor, where sundring themselues, no one durst stirre to approach néere them, for in Gerileons countenance they no­ted such high resolution, as they reputed him alone able to foyle a farre greater hoste of men.

Euen as a lustie Mower in the haruest time, in the mid­dest of a well growne field, with a sharpe Scithe in his hand, cuts downe the grasse and hearbes about him in very [Page] great quantitie: euen like [...]eare had the Pagans of this no­ble warriour, verily thinking him to be some celestiall dei­tie: and many times had they béene brought into such er­rour, for when they beheld any one, who by his haughtie déedes séemed to surpasse the common valour of men, and had some thing in him to out goe other in hardinesse: they easily were induced to beléeue, that this was one of their imaginarie Gods. This false perswasion serued very well for these two Christians, because if all the troupe had risen against them, you quickly may conceiue their daunger: but the good Angell that conducted them, by the helpe of God assisted them in such sort, as Adylas alone offered spéech to Gerileon, and that in this manner. I pray thée if thou bee one of the Gods, whose habitations is in heauen, tell or shew me by some signe if I haue offended the [...], and wherein I haue giuen cause, that thou shouldst thus destroy me and my people: assuring thée, that if by prayers, oblations and sacrifices, thine anger is not to bee appeased, and thy furie qualified, thou shalt no sooner bee returned to thy celestiall mansion, but presently thou shalt in aboundance feele, the pleasant perfume and exquisite Sabeene odour, with large gifts in thy Temple, and offerings on thine Altar, by me bestowed to thine honor and glory. Or if thou be some mor­tall creature, that hast reason thus to come and assayle me, killing Argontes my faithfull Achates, beside so many of my souldiours: then onely tell to me the cause heereof, and as­sure thy selfe, that I will repaire whatsoeuer iniurie, which thou pretendest to haue receiued by me, neither shall any of my men once mooue to offend thée, for the great valour and vertue I estéeme to be in thée. But if without any reasona­ble occasion, thou hast dared thus boldly to abuse me: thou mayst be well assured, that thou shalt be chastised according to thy deserts. Knight (answered Gerileon) I imagine thée to be the most apparant man of al thy troope, and (as I haue heard) thou art called Adylas king of Thunis, a knight verye [Page] famous and of great reputation as I gather, because I see thée affable and courteous. Wherfore I fréely tell thée, that I am none of the supposed Gods thou talkest of, but credit me, I am a knight errant, ignorant of the place wher I was borne, and the parents that gaue me life: but trauayle tho­row the worlde, whether fortune and my de [...]e conducts me, in search of such aduentures as merrit fame. Not long since, and not far hence, I slew a cruell monster, called the sauage Polyppe, where I met this knight, who told mee what causeles shame both thou and thy company (being ods of too great aduantage) offered a Christian prince called Ari­odant, one of whose traine he was: thou hauing discomfited him and his men, detainest some of them as prisoners, which iniurie he intreated me to reuenge, and I haue vndertaken it both vpon thée & thine: for well thou knowest, that by the lawe of chiualrie, inuiolably obserued among such as are woorthie to beare the title of knighthood, all errant knights séeking aduentures, are bound to reuenge the opprobrious wrongs, that the ouerstrong offer to the ouer weake, hauing no iust cause or reason therefore, and to defend them against all forcible violence, indirectly throwne vppon miserable and afflicted persons, maintaining euermore the quarrell of the wronged that haue no helpe. Beside, the quarrell (for which thou hast so hardly dealt with Ariodant and his peo­ple) is publique, touching all good Christians, of which num­ber I am one, and for euer will be: so by consequence it ap­pertaineth to mee, inciting mee to wreake reuenge, for the iniurie doone to my confederates, that are of selfe same reli­gion as I am, against all that are of the contrarye and ad­uersarie faith. Because then thou hast nothing else now to do, prouide thée, presently to the combate with me, if thou be so desirous as thou hast expressed: for thou séest I haue rea­son to assaile thée, and for whatsoeuer else I haue doone be­side. Hauing thus spoken, it happened as ye shall read here­after, for now we are to speake of other matters.

CHAP. 14.

IN this place, the Authour of this Histo­rie discontinueth a while, from speaking of the heroycall gestes and déeds of the knight Gerileon, to take the discourse a­gaine heeretofore begun, touching the cruell and bloodie warre betwéene the Christians and Pagans, that held siedge before the proud and famous Cittie of London: ensuing vp­on that you haue read in the former part of this Booke, where alreadie hath beene told yee, how the hote and fierce assault against the Cittie, vnder the conduct of furious An­grafolt was ended.

Now remaineth to acquaint ye, with what happened af­ter the Pagans were chased thence, sustaining so great losse and slaughter of their men, beside their cheefe heads and conducters Angrafolt and Mycophon beeing taken priso­ners, then thus we procéed. The night after this meruay­lous assault against the good and vertuous king Florida­mant, dooing a déed becomming a king that feared God and looued his people, as euery prince that is called to so high dignitie ought doo, séeing and knowing, how without helpe of the celestiall bountie, he was in most great danger of to­tall ruine, (which had béene no small hurt to all Christen­dome) [Page] also that as yet he had some aduantage of his ene­mies, hauing subiected one of the principall heads to his will, and an other of the best knights in all their troope: he would not now shew himselfe slothfull, but perfourme the act of a good Christian, by yéelding thanks and prayses to God, with intreatance to continue towards him and his people, these fauourable effects of his almightie goodnes, cheefely in a quarrell so iust and equitable, as was the cause of this seuere and outragious warre.

To this end, the same night that eche was retired from the fight, hee commanded the belles in all the Churches of the Cittie to be [...]noled, to assemble and call together all his people, from the highest to the lowest that had knowledge of God: willing them to render dutifull thanks to God, pray­ing that in mercie he would assist them, against his vnbelée­uing enemies who would not acknowledge him: which e­uery one did very deuoutly, and there was no holye place thorowout the Cittie, where lampes, torches, and tapers, were lighted, but the people flocked thither in exceeding number. And for this purpose, the aforenamed places were persumed with incense and Aromaticall odours, beside the musicall and mellodious voyces of Priests, Moonkes, sing­ing children, and other seruants of God, who with hearts full of heauenly deuotion, sung Canticles of prayse, with prayers agréeable and pleasing to God. Continuing thus well néere all the night, such as were more apte for warre, sayled not to be on the walles in their glittering Armour, to impeach the enemie, that hee should presume so prowdlye as the daye before hee had doone: in which time, they that were in guarde and kept the night watche, went to thanke God, and afterwards to their rest.

Angrafolt, whome king Floridament had taken prisoner, séeing all these things, admired the meruaylous foresight of the king, the industrie, care and vigilance he vsed, for pre­paration of the Citties defence and people: when well hee [Page] perceiued, that many of the Pagans should loose theyr liues, before they could vanquish the people beloued of God: but beyond all other things, he was astonned at the sight of the faire Infant Polydamie, who by commaundement of the king her father, entertayned him beningly, and shewed him good countenance: because the king had determined to in­treat and vse him with such contentment, as the force of his kindnes and benignitie, might mollifie the hard crueltie of his enemies. And so making them (against their nature) soft and gentle, they might bee induced to vse humanitie & cour­tesie, to foure worthie Christian knights, Accial of Surrie, Ramelin of Uuich, Melchior or Ireland, and Frangard Coun­tie of Durford, whom the Giant Brisard and Rongemont had taken prisoners in combatting. For this cause he per­swaded Angrafolt, to write vnto king Grandowin his fa­ther, to vse those foure hardy knights so kindly as might be: which he did, fearing if they misdealt with the Christians, by ouer sharpe or inhumaine seueritie, like rigour would be vsed towards him, and he should be as cruelly tormented. Heere vpon the Pagans did not put them to death, as other­wise they would haue doone, for the liues of these foure va­liant knights was desired of king Floridamant, more then the death of fiue hundred of his enemies, considering the present necessitie he was in.

And although Angrafolt (before his taking) was abooue all other a fierce and cruell aduersarie against him, yet now hee was so ouercome by the courtesie and kindnesse of the king vsed toward him: as more gladly would he continue in this prisonment, then returne againe to his compani­ons, for in such sorte was hee arrested by the fayre Infants beautie, which in his eye excelled all other hee had séene be­fore, as made him more desirous to abide in this fayre pri­son: so that when libertie was offered him, hee had no will to forgoe this swéet seruitude. For yee must vnderstand, that beyond her naturall perfection, which was no lesse ab­solute [Page] then I haue tolde yee: shee was adorned with such sumptuous garments, iewels and other trickes of embel­lishment, as like stately princesses are accustomed to weare, that the barbarous king feeling himselfe altogether surpri­sed with her loue, desired nothing more, then dayly to liue in contemplation of her good graces: and albeit thereby he re­ceiued some pleasure and contentment, yet was it a gréefe and martirdome to him to enioy nothing else, his amourous conceit being vnable to compasse any other effect, then this vaine imagination and fantasticall contemplation, so lying figured in his hart. And if by chaunce he dreamed on some little shew of hope, that perswaded him he should enioy the pleasant skirmishes of loue: yet presently againe was hee kild and discomforted: not vnlike the angrie and arrogant boot-haling Pirate, that was w [...]nte to tyrannize and tri­umphe ouer poorer théeues then himselfe, seeing he is (for some offence by him committed) bound fast by the leg with a chaine, blames the houre of his birth, exclaming on God and his iustice, without any feare or regarde of his supreme greatnesse.

Euen so was this proud Pagan tormented, and in his torment oftentimes to himselfe, hee imagined some subtill and detestable meane, whereby he might rauish the young and tender princesse, or forcibly carrie her awaye: When shee (good Ladye) without any thought of euill or mallice, vsed him most gratiouslie and courteous, euermore shew­ing him freendly and smilying countenances, and (accor­ding as the king her father had giuen in charge) would ma­nie and sundrie tymes, entertayne him with honest talke and familiare conference: which more and more serued to prouoke forward his loue, and from milde amourous con­ceit to make him more violent, inducing this cruell ene­mie to an euill and pernicious intent, such as heereafter ye shall knowe more of. For in this Chapter I must tell yee what chaunced (meane while) in the enemyes Campe. [Page] whether safely were retyred (as yee haue read in the first booke) the king Guittard of Baccaleos and the Carybes, who had beene in the thickest of the hurlie burlie: and not a lit­tle offended were they, to be thus shamefully driuen and re­pulsed from their enterprise.

It is necessarie then that wee consider, howe almightie God dooth sometime send afflictions on the good, to make tryall of theyr perseuerance in well doing, supporting with pacience the aduersities wherewith they are exercised: so it séemed now, that he would permit the Pagans of all coun­treys farre and neere, to assemble together with their in­expugnable forces, to peruert and ruinate altogether the estate of Christendome, whereof the kingdome of England was the great and strongest colour. For the day after this meruaylous assault, there arriued in the enemies campe for theyr helpe and succour, a great multitude of theyr allyes and confederates, such as had vowed with them the euersi­on and totall ruine of Christendome. Among others there came a Captaine sent by the king of the Turkes, named Grimoaldo, a man hardie and valiant of person: who con­ducted vnder his Ensignes fiftie thousand braue fighting men, and in goode quipage. Hee with his troope was wel­commed and receiued by the heads of the Pagan armie, es­pecially of the old king Grandowin, who feasted and enter­tained him in the best manner he could deuise, for hee kn [...]w well, that this Grimoaldo was a man of marke, as skilfull in feates of armes as any in all the host. He caused him to he lodged in the reregard of his Campe, whereof he was the head and gouernour, and this fresh supply made the Hea­then so glad and ioyfull, as nothing was heard among them but sounding of Tabourines, Trumpets, and other warlike instruments, expressing no little ioy and pleasure amongst them, with menaces against them of the Cittie, of quick discomfiture and extermination.

This ioy endured a great many dayes together, and as [Page] theyr succour encreased, so did theyr iouissance, for beside this Turkish Captaine, there came a puissant and meruay­lous Pagan, of monstrous forme and Gi [...]ntine stature, a proud monster, mutinous, and a mightie drinker. He had thrée heads or faces vppon on neck that supported them all, and when he entred the Campe, he wore a massie Crowne of golde, triple fourmed according to his heads: the crownes were made high like the Turrets of a strong Tower, and vnderneath was written this verse.

This arrogant and proud subscription was no leasing, for he was so strong and puissant, as himselfe was able to foile a whole Armie: and therefore to this assembly he brought with him but ten thousand combattants, with whome hee thought himselfe sufficient to subiugate all Christendome. And the cause why he [...]are these thrée crownes, was not in respect of his thrée faces so combine together: but because he was king of thrée kingdomes, and held thrée cruell kinde of people vnder his obe [...]sance, to wit the Ge [...]es, the Seythians, and the Sarmates or Sauromates. He shewed in the middest of his troope, as a great high Pine trée in the midst of a lit­tle wood, where the braunches beeing but young and ten­der, do begin to spread: for beside his vnmeasurable [...]ature, he was mounted on a furious bull of excéeding height, more prompt and apt to beare a saddle, run and carrire, then any horsse that was to be found in the world, as fit was he like­wise eyther for the ioust or combate: because if the Pagan seated on his backe ouerthrew his aduersarie, the bull im­mediatly with his hornes would beate downe the horsse, whereon the knight that fought against him was mounted. In this manner, enuir [...]ned with his men, e [...]red hee the Pagans campe, many of them being surprized with meruai­lous [Page] feare, to sée him of such a terrible aspect and furious [...]orme.

The other that were of better spirite and courage, knew well, that his arriuall would bee greatly succourable to them, because his force and valiancie was vnspeakable and inuincible, farre beyond any other humaine strength. And he that ioyed most to sée him, was the arrogant and fierce Brandissant, who sent for him, and at his request he came: for they two had long before beene companyons together, in many robberies and cruelties by them doone ioyntly, and by their association, forcibly, violently and thorow tiranny, they had gotten kingdomes, many rich booties and herita­ges, which they deuided betwéene them as brethren, that parte the common herritage of their Father when hee is deceased.

So by reason of the wunted familiaritie and acquain­tance that the one of them had with the other, they vsed many sundrie ceremoniall embracings to each other, being glad they had so fortunately met in this place, where they assured themselues of the pillage and spoyle, of the famous and wealthie Cittie of London, beside the rich treasure of king Floridamant, after they had vsed towards him and his people, the like or more bloodier crueltie, then euer the Grecians in times past did shew to Pryam and his warlike Troyans.

And surely this good Christian king was verye sad and sorowfull in his heart, seeing himselfe so weake against such a puissant armie, wherein were so many hardie and strong knightes, as but fewe like them could bee founde through the whole world, and aboue all the rest this mon­ster of Scythia was most redoubted, in that he was most to be feared for his force and crueltie: yet notwithstanding, putting his trust in God, the walles of his cittie beeing strong and well appointed, hee was pacient in this perill, expressing meruaylous hardinesse in his countenance, en­couraging [Page] his people with fayre speeches and exhortations, that by their generous actes and behauiour, they should be vigilant and carefull for the defence of the cittie, giuing them to vnderstand by woorthie examples, how religiously euery subiect stood bound to their king and countrie in that behalfe.

The enemyes on the contrarie side (for the reasons al­readie declared) were so merrie and io [...]nd, as through their campe was nothing but songs of ioye and pleasure, dronken pastimes, beastly gourmandisings, and such like insolencies: for beside the succour before rehearsed, came to the Pagan hoste two strong and puissant kings from the coast of Barbarie, the one named Phoas king of Alger, and the other Orontes king of Marocco, both co [...]sens germaine, and kinne in the same degree to Adylas king of Thunis, and to the king of Phez whom we spake of before, beeing of no lesse force and valour then those two. Withall they brought in theyr companie a great multitude of armed men, good archers bearing Persian Bowes and arrowes, with poy­sonned heads, the number of theyr men was fortie thou­sand.

By these meanes it seemed, that God being angrie and displeased with his people, would now thorowly scourge them, suffering in so short time, such a mightie power of e­nemies to be assembled: whereof heere I purpose to speake no more, but in the following Chapter you shall heare what happened.

CHAP. 15.

ALl the Pagan Arm [...]e being in this ioy and metriment, for the newe supplyes that came to them, as before yee haue heard, some hoping to loade themselues with rich bootles and pillage, others in the de­struction of the Englishe Citties and townes, which gréedie desire made them to vndertake this warre, and this they would obtaine, or die in pursuite thereof, (as at this day too many are found of like disposition) others incited and enflamed with desire of honor, but they were very fewe in number to the former sorte, wishing for spéedie fight with king Floridamants har­die and valiant knights, the conquest of whom would bring them immortall reputation, and this desire especially made them be seene in this warre, because many of their friends and kindred were slaine in the assault before the Cittie, and for their deaths they had reason to séeke reuenge: but aboue the rest, the olde king Grandowin, chéefe of this Armie, the [Page] most ancient and malicious enemie in the troope, appeasing his conceiued greefe, for the imprisonment and captiuitie of Angrafolt his eldest sonne: quicklye sent him woord of these good newes, and how daye by day there came to him from many places fresh supplyes, whereof if I should héere make report, it would require a very large discourse: neuer­thelesse, in running thorow the progresse of these affayres and state of this warre, he may gather some, breefe perticu­laritie heereafter. And to admit comparison, not Alexan­der, Darius, Xerxes, no not the Romaines, nor the Greekes before Troye, assembled so many fighting men together at one instant, as now was before the Cittie of London: so that according to generall oppinion, especially of the besteged, it was held for certainty, that all the kingdom of great Brit­taine was ruined and lost.

Of all these things was Angrafolt aduertised, and exhor­ted to worke some mean [...] of secret commotion within the Cittie, if he could deuise any way whereby to compasse it: but this two-folde taken prisoner, made full reckoning of all these newes and aduertisements, his thoughts onely at some secret cogitation, howe or which way hee might most commodiouslie steale away the young princesse Polydamie, or otherwise gaine some amourous iouissance, the onely medicine for his languishing passions, which continually maistred his wunted humours: making sometime a cour­teous and affable knight contrary to his nature, and some­time againe so drowned in melancholly, as the sight of any one but his fayre mistresse offended him. A thing question­lesse very strange, that he who was such a sauage and cru­ell enemie to all humanitie, not to bee conquered by anye kinde meanes, whose former desires aymed at nothing, but to sée himselfe in the middest of a battayle, holding his bloo­die Launce or Courtla [...]e in his hand, burning with enfla­med affection of fighting without measure: should now bee so subiected to the lookes of a soft and delicate maiden, cary­ing [Page] him dayly (as it were) bound after her, without think­ing eyther on battayle, armour, swoord, shield, horse or [...] his minde was howe to conferre familiarly with Polydamie, or counting it a cheefe felicitie to bee in sight of her, for all things else were death to his amourous desires.

Grandowin in meane while (being ignorant of this vnex­spected accident) one day called an assembly of his kings and such as were the chéefe of his armie, to the Pauillion where councell was accustomed to be holden: to the end they might deligently deliberate on their present affaires, and by what meanes they were likeliest to gaine home againe their pri­soned friends. At this councell there met about fiftéene or sixteene puissant kings, all wearing Crownes, and were placed according to their auncient honor and degrées. The first was king Brandissant, next, the puissant Tryphon king of Scythia, king Tauladas, king Guittard of Baccaleos, king Marton of Cantabres, king Phoas of Alger, Orontes king of Marocco, king Grimoaldo, king Pagotroff, king Salazard, king Kambarell, the strong king Zorlet, Borant king of Ca­rybe, Maurus king of Bohemia, with the proud and arrogant king Phorban of Moeotides, a braue Pagan, and a worthie knight. All these being assembled, to set downe some resolu­tion touching their busines, after they had long debated on diuersitie of opinions, such as were seuerally deliuered in councell: they concluded in the end to write to king Flori­damant, that within three dayes following he should come vnto them, and bring with him the two prisoners Angra­folt and Mycrophon, commaunding him to bee guide to the prisoners himselfe, accompanyed with the best knights that then were in the Cittie, six in number. Likewise to bring two hundred of the fayrest maidens, all Uirgins, and of mariageable yeeres, not excéeding fifteene or sixteen [...] at the most, that they might vse theyr pleasure with them. In meane while, to sende all the riches and treasure, which [Page] both himselfe and his Cittizens had in their most secret cō ­fers or cabinets, for search whereof, they would send fiue hundred of theyr Souldiers into the Cittie: and euer after it should continue as a yeerely tribute to the chéefe of theyr Armie, twenty Uirgins of noble familie and exquisit beau­tie, beside two Millions of Golde.

Moreouer, he and his knights should come bare headed, and without any armour, to aske parden of great king Grandowin for the death of his sonnes, in reuenge whereof this warre was commenced: withall, that hee and his knights should voluntarily submit themselues to his mer­cie, that hee might dispose of their liues and goods as see­med best to him: when peraduenture he would take pittie on them, not putting them to death so cruelly, nor race the Cittie, nor murther all the rest of his people, as otherwise he intended to doo, (if he denied theyr demaund) with such ruine and desolation, as neuer was mention made of the like.

To carrie these newes of this fayre resolution, was im­mediatly dispatched a messenger towarde king Florida­mant, to whome the gate of the Cittie was presently ope­ned, to vnderstand the cause of his comming: and hauing performed what hee imagined concerning his deuoyre, de­liuering the before named Letters to the king: wherevp­on his maiestie grewe presently into excéeding great anger and rage: yet cunninglye shaddowing his conceiued dis­pleasure, hee made no other answere to the messenger, but that his intent was not to accomplish and performe a­nie of those seuerall demaundes, in that they were ouer iniurious and vnreasonable, and not to bee allowed of in any wise.

Beside that (hee said) if his enemies eyther had or should set downe such a resolution concerning his ruine and destruction: hee with his councell and Nobles were concluded to stande on theyr defence, in resistance of the [Page] least euill that might [...]e. For the rest, each one should doe their vttermost endeuour, according as himselfe hither to had doone, and neuer yet could any enemy compell him to matters against his will, wherefore it was too late for him now to begin: and so (quoth he to the messenger) yee may returne with this answere. Which presently he did, whereat the Pagans greatly meruayled, that a man hauing so few to helpe him, should containe such hardinesse, as to talke to them of resistance: aboue all the rest, old Grando­win was extreamely e [...]raged, saying, that this was not the first act, wherein appeared the effects of king Floridamants oure-wéening, wherefore he would spéedily take such order with his people, as should sharpely make him repent his follie and rashnesse.

Wherevppon, within thrée daies following at the most, each one should prepare himselfe readie to armes, when such an assault should be made against the cittie, as not one stone should be left standing vppon another, but bee rased and extermined altogether. In regard whereof, euery one should withdraw himselfe to his quarter, and giue order for all things needfull against the day of assault. Heereof the Christian king being aduertised, commaunded the Pagan Mycrophon to bee closely locked vp, to the end that during this troublesome time, hee might compasse no meane of working any treacherie or treason. But as for the king of Corse, hee restrayned not him of libertie, which hee had to walke within the walles of the Pallace royall, where was roome sufficient and verye spacious: well perceiuing that he was so carryed away with the loue of his daughter, with whom and the Queene Bellizene he still kept company, as­suring them, that he would expose himselfe rather for theyr defence then offence: and in respect of the conuersation he had had with them, no iniurie should bee offered to theyr honor.

In which spéeches the Queene reposing some confidence, [Page] but the mayden especially: the more willingly they would conuerse with him, and among other familiar conferences, the Quéene made him recount the number of straunge na­tions, the diuersitie of kings and great captaines that were in theyr Armie, their estate, forces and deedes of chiua [...]rie, by them in former times performed▪ By which reports they cunningly gleaned from this imprudent Pagan, what best might serue for the defence of the Cittie, and thorow ouer­much talke, he discouered how, on which side, and by what secret meanes, the enemyes had concluded to assaile and seaze on the Cittie: withall hee declared to them, the man­ner and custome that those nations were wunt to obserue and vse in such warre, which was most likelyest, and which not.

By these meanes king Floridamant had knowledge of many things, that serued as speciall rules of discipline to his Court of guard, and therfore appointed his men in rea­dines against the threatned daye: continually trauayling day and night with Grandilaor, Fertand, Candior, Sylban, and other hardie knights of name that were in the Cittie with him, who (according to his commaund) busied themselues very carefully, letting nothing flip that any way concerned theyr change. During which time, one night secretly arri­ued at the Cittie wall, the two valiant knights, Andregon Duke of Suffolke, and Lampridion Countie of Norffolke, both Cosens germaine, and highly belooued of king Flori­damant. The first came from demaunding helpe for the Christians, of Dorian king of Spayne, and the other from the like affaires in the kingdome of Gaule, whether they were sent, before the Pagan armie had engirt the Cittie with siedge, and both returning at one selfe same time, after many aduentures befalling them in the expedition of theyr voyages, met together on the way, and so trauailing in com­pany, arriued there about the houre of midnight, not being espyed by any of the enemies Campe, who then were in [Page] their dead sleepe, and comming to the foote of the wall, on that side, where the king of the Suitzers had charge, and where as then a good Cittizens was Sentinell one of the ri­chest and best Souldiours of the Cittie, being called Hoa­ster, that knew them very well, because he had familiarlie frequented the houses of these two Christian knights, and and they well perceiuing, that Hoaster knew them by their spéech, sent presently woord of their arriuall to king Florida­mant, who caused the neerest gate of the cittie to them to be opened, when they safely entred, not being at all discouered by the enemie. Hee that came from Spaine aduertised his maiestie, how king Dorian vnderstanding his war against the Pagans, concluded immediatly to come himselfe in per­son, attended on by a strong and puissant armie, to assist king Floridamant his old companion, and the christian peo­ple that inhabited great Brittaine: for which cause he sum­moned a méeting of his subiects, promising to be in England in very short time. These tidings brought Andregon, and Lamprydion deliuered the like from king Belligand of Gaule how forward hee was in deuoire to send him succour, his armie being leueyed and readie to depart, and had [...]re then set forward, but that the king daylye expected the Prince Diodamas his sonne, a man of great valour, who had not long before receiued his order of knighthood: being gon in quest of an other knight, that had in his keeping a Fayrie Launce, where of hee had robd the king his father, which Launce hee heard was againe recouered by the young prince, and he returning home ward, when being come, hee should away to England with the armie. For these glad tidings king Floridamant thanked God, trusting in him and to the speeding supplie each houre expected: resoluing to defend himselfe if he should be assayled, without any issu­ing foorth to the enemie, neither to sight, except he should be enforced there vnto, vntill these Armies were ioyned with him. Attending which time, he thought good to prolong [Page] day of the assault, kéeping their enemies in breath, and these affayres in good foresight: which to comp [...]sse, he thought on euery likely and expedient remedie, as yee may perceiue in the Chapters following.

CHAP. 16.

MEane while, to finde some meane of de­ferring the generall assault, which the Pagans in their councell had determi­ned against the Cittie of London: king Floridamant consulted with the hardie knights of his councell, and other noble personages, that then were in the Cittie with him to receiue aduise from them, what best might be doone [...]or defence of the Christians against all euents, wan­ting honest excuses to delay the day of battaile, and tarri [...] for the supplie which was comming. The Pagans on the other side disposed their men (being many in number) to as­sayle the besiedged, forca [...]ing all the best wayes and m [...]anes for the same that might be possible. And as these af­fayres passed on in this sort, the fayre Infant Polydamie be­ing on the top of a high Tower of the pallace royall, where she might behold the confused and bad ordered multitude of enemies: sawe them martching foorth of their pauillions, which were erected a pretty way off from the [...]ittie, that they [Page] might to raine themselues néerer, where the Archers, Cros­bowes and Slings might eastlie reache the towne with their shaftes and stones: as in those times the Pagan nati­ons knew how to vse the same, as well in assayling as in defending, or where they soonest might come to handie gripes, or make some sudden surprise in the night, whereat the beautifull maide was greatly abashed. But had they beene assembled there, to some better purpose then they were, shee might haue conceiued excéeding pleasure, in be­holding so many goodly Ensignes or Guydons, such riche gilt glistering armour, so many pikes and launces, so many braue Captaines well furnished, so many hardie knights well mounted in equipage, so many Drummes, Fyfes, and Trumpets, which with warlike noyse chéered vp the soul­diers hearts: as one would haue sayd, seeing the footmen leape and daunce so merrily, and the horsemen carryre so brauely, that they rather were prepared for a wedding then the fight: yet notwithstanding this pleasing sight, she curs­sed them in her minde, desiring bet [...]ter pastime, and more agreeable to her contentment.

Continuing in this displeased thought and contemplati­on, Angrafolt the king of Corse came vp to hir, hauing long sought her in many chambers of the Castell, and not find­ing her, ye may guesse his greefe by his humor: for he was so passionate and impatient in his loue, that beeing absent from the fayre Infants sight, he could enioy no rest, wher­fore finding her by her selfe, after hee had so long sought hir in euery likely place: iudge yee whether he were pleased or no, and the Prince [...]e contrarywise displeased, to be alone in such a place, farre from the Queenes company and the o­ther Ladyes, with such a mightie enemie to hir modestie, which (as she well knew) bee sought all meanes to attempt: yet [...]éeling himselfe to be a prisoner, fearing likewise to raise any further offence in his enemies against him, and especi­ally being ouerruled by the force of loue, which made him so [Page] milde and gentle as I tolde [...] before, he vsed such rega [...] of the Princesse, as not so much as with a looke or a word, he would be drawne to vse any force or violence towards her. Which when the Lady noted, with a benigne and gracious welcome, wishing him to abandon those melancholly hu­mours, she intreated him to shew and tell her perticulerly, who and what were the chéefest leaders in that multitude. And séeing a chariot [...] [...]edeckt with golde and siluer, drawne by foure lustie [...] Coursers brauely caparoson­ued, wherein sat an auncient knight, his heard white, and countenance reuerend, enuiro [...]ed with a goodly troope of horssemen, that rode before him along the field, all shewing dutie to him, and rainging which way hee pleased: she was desirous to know the estate of this old man, whom first her eyes had taken view of, wherefore she thus began.

I pray yee sir knight, if ye beare me such loue as ye haue made speeche of: tell me truely what this old man is, that rides in such riche and fayre a Chariot, to sport himselfe a­long the Ca [...]pe. Lady, quoth Angrafolt, I shall willingly tel yee without fabling, for in obeying your commaund, I would make no spare of my life, much lesse then deny to sa­tisfie yee in this. Among these matters of so great impor­tance, know madame, that this is the puissant king Gran­dowin my father, cheefe of all this great multitude of men by him leuied, in his youth he hath doon [...] many fayre [...] and worthie deedes of memorie, and although (by reason of his yeares) hee is not as hee hath beene readie in force and prowesse for the fight: yet is hee so wise and pollitique in councell, concerning these affyres of warr [...], a Prince [...] riche, opulent and redoubted withall, as all the Pagan nati­ons stand in awe of him, respecting onely his [...]ommaunde­m [...]nt. All these which you sée heere, are [...] for his defence (the renowne of his vertue and [...] beeing so spred through the world) are all at his direction, to fight, [...] citties, or what else beside, and [...] are they to learne [Page] [...] Then tell me sir, quoth she, what is yonder portly knight of stature, whose countenance appeareth so proud and arrogant, that with his great blacke Courser fetcheth such [...] hauing so rich and fayre a plume of [...] blew and white in the treast of his Helmet, an­ [...]wering the same in couller that are on his horsses head: his Beuer being open, makes me coniecture by the small sight of his face, that hee should bee a man of high resolue, and in martiall: enterprises a couragious warriour. Beside, if [...] [...]ye deceiue mee not, hee somewhat resembles your selfe in countenance, the couller of your haire nothing diffe­ [...]ing: for his armes, as I guesse standing so farre off, hee beares in his shéeld three bloudie rampant Lions in a field blewe.

He [...] whom yee speake of Madam, answered Angrafolt, [...]ée [...]ing to hardie and magnanimous, is my brother Bran­dissan [...], a man repleat with wounderfull prowesse, valiant and readie at armes beyond all the rest of the armie, a riche and mightie prince hoth in lands and treasure, who in his tender youth held such warre against his enemies, as ouer­ [...]ing and [...]anquishing them, he conquered with all sun­drie [...] and [...] rich and fertile, well garnished with people, borne and brought vp to follow the warres. But he (quoth Polydamie) whom I behold yonde [...] a little on the left hand, who priding in the course of his horse, makes him carrire toward king Brandissant your brother: he [...]eares in his sheeld [...]oure Giants, and the figure of a monster dead or [...] as I [...] by the painting, and there stands a knight [...] in the conquest: what is he? and what are those other three that follow in the same course, all seeming to be of one minde or disposition. They [Page] are (quoth Angrafolt) foure great Pagan princes, the subiects and seruants to king Brandissant my brother: the first of them is called Solazard, that beares the monster and the Giants slaine, as yee perceiue by the painting in his shéeld, those in times past hee alone vanquished in a foughten field.

He is a riche and puissant Lorde, a man of great valour and addresse at armes, and by reason of his prowesse wor­thie estimation: though he were deformed and of monstrous fashion, as ye might sée if he were vnarmed. The other like­wise that follow, are knights of marke and great reputati­on, the one, is king of Niuarie, a riche and opulant king­dome, that with one Launce, brought to death thirtie Can­tabres, when king Brandissant my brother made warre vpon them, wherefore at this day he beares them all depainted in his shéeld, as yee might behold, if the gréene shaddow were away wherewith it is couered. As for the other two, they are the valiant Cambarell and Pag [...]traff, Kings of the Iu­nonian Isles, in riches and valour they are not equall to their two former brethren, but in age onely and nothing else: and further of in midst of the troupe, where ye sée yond multitude of goodly pauillions, are their people, tarrying but when they shall bee ranged in order for the assault: to­ward king Grandowin are they now martching, to vnder­stand his aduise and councell, in what place they should as­semble, while the rest of their companie beeing merrily dis­posed, fall to such pastimes as martiall men are wunte to exercise.

And fronting that troope, yee may behold my six Giants, which shew so high aboue the other, as stéeples in a cittie o­uerpéere the lowest buildings: and they are prepared (as they were when I maistred them) to resist a verye puissant armie. But what is he, quoth the princes, on the right hand, that rides on the roane Courser, managing a strong launce vppon his thigh, clad in blacke Armour grauen all ouer [Page] with golde, glittering so brauely as hee rides to an other troope some what further off.

You meane he Madame, said Angrafolt, that beares thrée golden Sunnes in his sheeld, deciphered in a greene field, and bordered round about with purest golde? He I meane, answered the Princesse, that talkes with another knight of like apparaunce, hard by the multitude, mounted on a sor­rell Courser, with a very strong Launce in his hand, and in his shéeld thrée Leopards heads in a Sable field. It is, re­plyed the Corsean prince, the worthie king Tauladas of Ca­nada, a man woonderfull a [...]able and debonaire, albeit no lesse hardie with swoord or Launce, then anye other in all the Campe: euen so is he with whome you see him talking▪ the redoubted Barant king of Carybe, they both being come to associate this warre, rather for proofe of man to man in combate, (against king Floridamant your father, the fame of whose renowmed vertues called them hither) then any desire to doo him hurt or damage: but true it is, that to for­tifie our Campe, they haue brought with them from theyr countries and kingdomes, great store of armed men and well appointed. I am much deceiued, sayd the princesse, if he whom I see standing with his face toward vs, bee n [...]t some Pagan king of great name▪ he I meane, that now marcheth [...], all bearing Ensignes or Guydons of diuers coullers in their hands, and he riding somewhat aloof [...] before them, on a horsse more whyte then any Swanne, harnessed with [...]mosin veluit, the [...]uddes and buckles of perfect golde: and if mine eyes fayl me not, he [...] three [...] sheeld, and those I take to be his armes.

Madame, answered the Pagan, I did not well note his countenance, beacuse he suddenly turned back toward his [...] but if hee beare such arms as you speake of it [...] Marton, king of Biscay or [...] (among other things) to [Page] conduct men of warre on the Seas, where in our [...]omming hith [...]r hee was cheefe leader of all our Armie, hauing the whole gouernment and charge thereof, by reason of the great valour abiding in him, and long experience in manie affayres: they that follow him are all knights of esteeme, whose charge is to manage the Ensignes and Standards in the ships.

I haue not yet séene, sayd the Princesse Polydamie, two more braue and comely knights, then these two that ryde hitherward, ech on a black Stéed, marked alike with white in their foreheads, their backs and legges richly harnessed with greene veluet: one of them beares two Collomes in his sheeld, figured in an Azure field: the other a flourishing braunche of Roses, carrying theyr liuely Roses in a golden field, and each hath in his hand a Iaueling pointed with golde, and garnished with siluer studdes: theyr horsses trot alike, both of one [...] and height, I am [...] they are none of the m [...]anest in your companie, I pray ye sir tell me what they are. These two (Madame) are arriued heere since I was taken, but as I haue heard by messages from my noble father, they are the two princes Orentes and Pho­as, the one king of Marocco, the other of Alger, two neigh­bouring kingdomes on the coast of Barbarie, abounding in riches and treasure, so likewise of their persons they are as hardie and valiant as any in the world, and as heauie ene­mies to the Christians and their religion, the expresse cause of theyr comming hither, to hurt and destroy them so much as possiblie they may.

As the Corsean king held on this speech to the princesse, the kings Maurus and Phorbon, and betweene them the monstrous Tryphon king of Scithia, Gotia, Sarmata, and Ge­ta, came foorth of their pauillions to dorayne theyr people, and as the young Ladie noted theyr gestures and counte­nance, intending to enquirs what they were, c [...]ing her eyes vppon the Scythian Mou [...]er, m [...]unted and [...]quipped [Page] in such forme and manner as before I haue tolde yee: shee was so surprized with feare at the verye sight of him, her heart beeing tender, daintie and delicate, as giuing a loud shrike, she fell in a swoune or traunce, which the Pagan king perceiuing, and dreading some wurs inconuenience would ensue: he tooke her vp in his armes, and caryed her thence verye gentlye and modestlie into the Queenes Chamber, where he declared the occasion of her feare, and continued to them the discourse of those thrée before named kings: which the Ladyes heard very attentiuely, and while the Pagan bethinkes himselfe where to breake off his discourse, heere thinke I good to conclude this Chapter.

CHAP. 17.

KIng Floridamant was all this while in Councell, to be aduised (as I tolde ye in the former chapter) how hee might best delay the assault, and by likelye meane de [...]erre it, till the expected ayde from Gaule and Spaine were arriued. In which councell, there were many of dif­ferent and contrarye oppinions, for some thought good to temporise a while without fighting, vntill they should bee somewhat stronger, to endure so sharpe and cruell an assault as the Pagans intended against them; because in very déede they were ouer-weake, to withstand so fierce a charge as [Page] was like to be offered, for if theyr mishap should be such (as the issue of fightes and batta [...]les is most certainlye vncer­taine) to be vanquished, and the Cittie taken in the assault: the hoped for supply so long attended, were vaine, and would profit them nothing after theyr death, for hardlye should they become conquerours after they were conquered, ther­fore the counsell of stay was reputed most honest, and with­out anye shewe of cowardise of these doubtfull meanes to chuse one.

Or else to sende a Letter to the heads and cheefe of the Pagan Campe that if twelue such knightes as they could choose in theyr Campe, euen the very brauest, where of they had great numbeer, (except the mightie king Tryphon of Scithia) durst enterprise the combate in field enclosed, with what armes they would, against king Floridamant, and ele­uen such knights as hee would elect for his companie: if in this combate they happened to be victors, king Floridamant would obey the decrées and conditions by them before pro­posed, satisf [...]yng whatsoeuer they demaunded by their mes­senger. But if the conquest turned to king Floridamant and his Knights, the Pagans should bee bound to deliuer their foure vallant prisoners, and depart with bag and baggage, not offering iniury or displeasure to any Christian. For assurance of which conuentions, the prisoners on eyther side should remaine ostages, vntill the vanquished had obey­ed to such order as they had thus promised by inuioble oathe.

Otherwise they were of opinion, to enforce the Pagan prisoner write to them, with whom his credit was so great, and whose losse the king Grandowin greatly feared, because extreamely he loued his Children: that so soone as they be­gan to assault the cittie, the Christians were minded cruel­lie to put them to death. Others humors were far contrary héer to, and said, it were more necessary to incite the Corsean king, to write rather of a treatie of mariage with the kings [Page] daughter, beeing become so amourous of her, as hee could gladly elect her as his wife: and while they should consider on this marriage contract, it might bee a meane of peace with Floridamant, for the cittie were to stand frée from the least mollestation, vntill he secretly vnderstood his fathers will, whether it should be a marriage or no, for which sea­son they might lawfully require a truce or peace: thus feig­ning some forwardnes in themselues to this marriage, they should induce the Pagan to write the more willingly. But king Floridamant, who had his spirit more vigilant and di­ligent about his affayres, and for the conseruation of his honor: reputed these opinions (of the king Grandilaor and Ferrand, with the princes Andregor and Lampridion, who had thus conferred together) to be very straunge and farre from reason: wherefore he addressed himselfe to graue olde Candior of Normandie, desirous to vnderstand if he were so minded or no, whereto the Duke thus answered.

My Lord, I haue euer esteemed and accounted the kings Ferrand and Grandilaor, as also the Duke of Suffolke and Countie of Nor [...]olke, to be hardy and couragious knights, aboue all in your court, theyr deedes haue beene verye ge­nerous, and full of high chiualrie, as by very honourable ef­fects they haue beene manifested to me: but I tell yee bold­lie in their presence (seeing it is your pleasure) without any flutterie, that [...] I had not good and certaine knowledge of them, yea, had not mine eyes seene in many encounters, the vndoubted proofe of their valour and vertue: hearing them of such opinion in these affayres, questionles I should think them other then they are, or else dreading doubt of the dan­ger wherein we now are, hath made them vse these tearms of feare, [...]ather to the losse of your estate, so many good citti­zens, women and young children as are in this cittie, then any hazard of their owne persons. Therefore whatsouer [...] thereon, I may not follow their aduise, for many rea­sons and considerations, which if it please you, and all the [Page] assistants, to listen with fauourable eares, I will describe vnto ye. In the first place, if we should write to our enemies and defie certaine of them in combate against like number of ours: they presently would conceiue opinion, that all our strength and valour consisted in the hardinesse of a doozen men, which might be easie for them to discomfite, and no o­ther hope remaineth now for vs, where as yet hither to they haue beene of a farre contrary minde. For howsoeuer rea­die they bee to assayle vs, they imagine vs to bee a greater number then we are, as ye may gather by so many likely­hoods lately seene, disposing their campe into so many and sundrie places, all to hinder our issuing foorth vppon them by day or night: the rest in farre fewer number, are ranged into foure direct places, where best they may make their as­sault. Farre better it is for vs it should bee so, then other­wise, because if all were prepared to assayle vs, wee should finde our selues more seuerely [...], then we can do by the order that is nowe disposed: and this will fall out for cer­taine, if we write to our enemies as these good Lords haue aduised.

Secondly, whereas we would combate, as it is thought méet to be demaunded, or else we will do or can do nothing: if we be so desirous of the combate, twelue against twelue, we shall bring our selues into very great hazard. For it is necessary to consider, as euer more in taking things at the [...], that be it wee gaine or we loose the battaile, we shall be sure euery way to loose: because in a case of victorie, we can take no assurance of our enemies [...]aith, they hauing none at all. Nor are we anyio [...]e to trust the [...] priso­ners, which wee haue in our custodye, by reason they haue more of ours, whome we prize and esteeme more them they doo or can doo theyr [...]. Beside, they haue among them diuers nations of contrary [...] [...], some of them (against the will of the [...]) may [...] vppon our twelue knights, and murther them, if they bee not miraculously preserued from [Page] so great daunger: and which is more▪ what likelihood can be gathered, that twelue men, the cheefe and head of a suffi­cient great and puissant armie, should go foorth to hazard the liues and libertie of so many persons? where being vnited together within the Cittie, and fenced round about with strong walles, me thinkes, that although all the Pagans in the world were héere assembled to enforce vs, yet should it be impossible for them. And before they can get entrie, their siedge will be longer then that of Troye was, but we must make no issue out vpon them, neither wil we any way con­discend to this combate: for it were but a faint harted trick, if they should take vs at our woord, and we our selues after­ward glad to refuse it, this for euer will redounde to our great shame and dishonour, which we should rather flie then the losse of our liues. Nowe for constraining the Pagan prisoner to write any thing thereby to respite and delay the assault, I mislike that more then the other, because wee ought not vse any force or violence against a prisoner, vr­ging him to write any matter whatsoeuer, that may be pre­iudiciall to him or his: least that our enemies who are Pagans, and in whome yet neuer appeared any sparke of loyaltie or fidelitie (as well we knowe) should intend some thing against our prisoner, both hurtful vnto them and vs, and I am of opinion, that if vnbeléeuing men containe such good thoughts, as to vse kindnes and benignitie towarde their enemies, the like or more ought appeare in them that professe faith and loyaltie. Wee then that follow the right path of a farre better religion, should thinke on no fraude or trumperie whatsoeuer, and much lesse in time of a kinde intreaty, as we promise to our prisoned enemie, vnder hope whereof, they whom our enemies detaine of ours, may re­ceiue such fauour from them, as they shall not be compelled to doo any thing hurtfull to themselues. Let vs not then constraine him to any thing against his will, much lesse let vs speake or once open our mouthes concerning any marri­age, [Page] in that it will seeme a matter incredible to our enemies that against the lawes of our religion, wee would permit the marriage of a Pagan with a Christian: this were but to make them veryly beléeue, that we would altogether for­sake our God, and the con [...]idence we haue hitherto reposed in him, to worship with them their false gods, Iupiter, Ma­homet, Mercurie, Phoebus, and such like idols as they reue­rence as things celestiall, so altogether to take their parte: whereas we ought not shew them the least attaint of our thoughts, but firmely to stand on our strong faithfull foun­dation toward God, who euermore hitherto hath maintai­ned and preserued vs, by his exceeding mercie and inuin­cible dower. And still in his goodnes we ought to resolue with our selues, that all the Bethulians were in times past deliuered, from the miserable and cruell siedge of cruell Holofernes, onely by power diuine, that for their deliuerance raised vp a woman, who by vndauntable stomach cut off the head of their chéefest enemie: we by the like or greater mi­racle, by his supreame and diuine grace shall be deliuered from our proud enemy: for whose destruction if our strength be two feeble, or in any sort wanteth, hee can by his will, if we firmely trust in him, make flye on them againe, eyther the Sword of Gedeon or Aioth, or else an other Iudeth, to ouerthrow and exterminate theyr dayes altogether, so to preserue and deliuer them that abide in faithfull obedience and trust, continuing theyr firme hope and assurance onely in him.

We sée by many holy and sacred misteries and examples wherewith the diuine and holy Scriptures are plentifully stored and furnished from how many euils and mischiefes he deliuered, and miraculouslie preferued the Children of Isaack and Israell, that trusted in his goodnesse and mercie, and did with hearts full of deuotion and penitence, call for his helpe and succour in theyr calamities and afflictions: let vs then altogether trust & hope in him, beleeuing that he [Page] is at this present, euer hath beene, and for euer will bee, as gracious and mightie as then hee was, and in this hope let vs take paine, valiantlye and couragionslie to defend our selues: for if we had this resolution in vs, though we were as men without hart or power, I am perswaded that fiue hundred of vs, shall suffise to impeache the entrance of our enemie, were they as many more in number as they are, and so attend the arriuall of our hoped succour, albeit they should tarry a moneth yet longer in comming, when he had concluded in this sorte, the wise and vertuous king Florida­mant, seeing by [...]xteriour demonstration, that the greater part of the assistants, approoued and highly praysed the good councell of the val [...]ant olde Candior Duke of Normandie: fastened on his words, and thus began himselfe.

My good friends and faithfull companions, if in this ad­uers [...]tie (which hath not béene common with you or mee) I haue some cause of greefe, to sée my selfe in extreame dan­ger of loosing my estate and Crowne, which my predeces­sours by their prudence and vertue, so long time happilie preserued in all flourishing ioy and prosperitie: yet withall I haue now great reason to comfort my selfe, séeing so ma­nie vertuous and valiant persons embarqued in the same ship, readie to run in like daunger of fortune with me, who not onely by effects of their prowesse and valour lets mee apparantly behold, what good will they beare to the conser­uation of the christian weale publique: but likewise do tra­uaile by their aduise and councell, to acquaint both mine eyes and certaine experience, with what zeale and affection they embrace the conduct of mine estate, and howe forward they are for the preseruation of all Christendome, which would bee meruaylously shaken, if this wofull distressed kingdome (at this instant the most flourishing estate of all, where the name of Iesus Christ is knowne, honored and glorified) should fall as a praye to the enemie, that séeke to take and vtterly ruinate it. For which I ought chéefely to [Page] thanke my God, as vnfaynedly I doo, that he hath not alto­gether forsaken mee in this calamitie and miserie: but not onely hath prouided me of such valiant knights and warri­ours as you all are, but withall hath lent me men so skilfull and aduised. It séemeth then good to me, that according to the discréet councell of Duke Candior of Normandie, that we should not séeke to delay, but patiently endure the ene­mies assault, when they shall againe with their great num­ber giue the attempt, and without any shew of feare eyther without or within the Cittie, carrie no regard of our liues or goods, but imploye our selues together manfully, to de­fend so iust a quarrell as this for which we fight. And let vs so behaue our selues, that our enemies may know, how the Lord God that assisteth vs, and can (if hee please) take our ca [...]se in hand, is onely mightie, and will by vs deliuer such testimonie of fortitude to the worlde, as neither is in their power, or the false idolatrous Gods which they worship, to doo, in vaine then shall they thinke to feare vs, or worke such ruine to vs as they intended. In this deliberation each of you take courage, and he assured, that whosoe [...]dr dyeth in hardie tryall of this fight, it shall bee a perpetuall honor to him in this world, and a glorious life to him in the end­lesse world, where he shall triumphe of the fayrest victorie. Neuertheles, I doo not reiect the good councell and aduise of the king Ferrand, Grandilaor, and others agréeing with them whereto if we sée vrgent necessitie constraine vs, wee may vse them as we find cause, to vphold our selues on our feete what euer betide vs: marie yet we must not so slight­lie condiscend thereto, without further feeling of our ene­mies force, then as yet we haue, without any great disad­uantage. Hauing thus sayd, ech commended and agréed on this resolution, and so rysing from councell, they went to prepare to withstand the assault, as héereafter ye shall read, because we must héere conclude this chapter.

CHAP. 18.

WHen the Christian Princes departed from Councell, it was almost night, and hauing a lighted Torche before him, as is the manner in the Realme of Eng­land, the chéefe and most noble Lordes went to the Pallace royall, to take theyr repast in companie of their king, who feasted and entertayned them very magnificently, the bet­ter to encourage them in their deu [...]ire. After supper was ended, the guarde and watch was orderly placed, each one of the inhabitants thus resoluing, rather to die the death, then turne their backes on their enemies, or forsake the walles, which they manned and fortified very strongly, ex­pressing iuuincible and neuer quayling courage. The prin­ces were there in person, and hauing in the night made sundrie roundes about the Cittie, to see if any thing wan­ted in any place: they found all well and in good dispositi­on, through the carefull dilligence of the Captains by them appointed, and according as the king had commaunded for conduct of the footmen. This doone, they departed for a while to the pallace againe, that they might take a little rest, because they had beene so ouertrauailed the dayes be­fore. Not three houres or thereabout had they slumbringly slept, but they heard a great rumour and noyse thorow all the Cittie, the cause whereof was, in respect the enemies [Page] had sounded their drums and trumpets, giuing an allarme to the inhabitants: wherevpon king Floridamant arose immediatly, and all the Christian kings and Princes that bare him companye, who betooke themselues as the king had appointed, to the rampiers and contremures seuerally prouided, to withstand this first and sudden assault of the Pagans. And as each one was come to his place of charge, they found the enemies alreadie verye busie, against foure places of the Cittie at once, with their Trepans, Rammes, Bricolles, Scorpions, Crowes, with other such like engines and instruments for warre, wherewith in those times they vsed to breake and beat downe the walles of Citties, they saw withall▪ that they had erected theyr high terrasses and platformes that commaunded ouer the Cittie, and on the principall of these Fortes, they had builded certaine bastils or houses of wood, wherein were placed great store of Ar­chers and crossebows, who standing with assurance against the enemie, might greatly iniurie such as attempted to im­peache the escalade, appointed in these places and for this purpose. For this cause likewise, they commanded their E­lephants to be brought neere the wals, to the number of two or three hundred, carrying little castles of wood vpon theyr backs, wherein also were a number of Pagan Archers hid. Beside, many were appointed with Torches and burning firebrands against the gates of the cittie, where they layde store of pitch barrels, to make the fire the sooner do his office when the gates being burnt downe, they entered in great number the citty, while the christians was busied to defend the breach or scaling of the wals: when king Floridamant & his hardie knights had notice [...]éereof, with all spéed they ha­ste [...]ed thither, where séeing how they laboured against the high bulwarks of earth, with their pioners they made new fortifications vpon them, casting such déepe trenches round about, as should hold them rougher worke then the wal had done: for the trenche was made with speciall good soldiours [Page] [...] [Page] the number of thrée or foure thousand, being armed wyth pikes and stéeled cuirasses, so worthily stood vpon theyr de­fence, as the Pagans, who verily thought they had won the daie alreadie, were quickly repulsed from that bridge, for king Grandilaor, Andregon and Lampridion, who were appointed to kéep that quarter with their companies, droue them so furiously ouer the false rouered déepe trenches, as at this first onset fell therein wounded, slaine and spoyled, fouretéene or fiftéene hundred Pagans together, that were striuing, who should be formost before his fellow. Whereat the f [...]erce & proud Brandissant chafed out of measure, when being followed by the foure Pagan kings his vassalls, all armed in most goodly glittering armour, each hauing in his hand a mightie mase, garnished with sharpe stéele pointes round about: they laid vpon the Christians so outragiously, as the port of the bulwarke (where into the greater part ran for safetie of their liues) being too straight to let them in so fast as they came, there were presently slaine out-right in this brunt more then fiue hundred men. Brandissant pres­sing still on, by chance met with the Citizen Hoaster, who had charge of a braue armed troup in the citie, and such was his vnconquerable courage, as hee woulde resist this bloud­thirstie pagan: but he receiued such a stroke on the creast of his morion, where stood a faire plume of snowie white fea­thers, as pearcing quite through the harnes into the brains there this worthie citizen yéelded vp his soule to God: which when his sonne behold, the sole heire of a meruailous weal­thie patrimonie, which his father had heaped together for him, beeing a valiaunt young man and of towardly hope, he was ouercome with such extreame rage and despight, as in the heate of his [...]urie (not dreading the force of this stout pa­gan) he ranne vpon him to reuenge the death of his father, and hauing his sword drawen in his hand, he deliuered such a stroke at the pagan, as (but for the goodnes of his shielde) had deeply wounded him, for the swords point brake of with [Page] out anie further harme to his enemie, but the Pagan ma­king no account of the blow, thought in scorne to passe by him, and meddle no more with him, whereat the yong man called Dondye, was so vexed, as running againe at Brandis­sant, he challenged him the combat: when the Pagan ente­ring into his wonted choler, made him die the same death his father had done before, and holding on his waie in this furie, made such hauocke of the Christians, as before hee wold take a breathing, he slew fiue & twentie or thirtie men of marke, as braue and hardie as any in that companie. A­garos a man of authoritie, who before time had lead men in the warres of the de [...]eased king Brandismel, was slayne as he fought verie couragiously; for after hee had killed foure pagan souldiers hand to hand, himselfe fell downe deade by the hand of this cruell and bloudie Brandissant, So likewyse did Taurisque the braue leaper and the good drinker Grinos albeit he tooke not his drinke well inough that morning, for which it séemed he was so sorrowfull in dying as he yelded forth his soule at his mouth, crying for some friend to bring him his liquor. With them bare companie Anglidor King Floridamants player on the Lute, and the valiaunt knight Andron, who somtime had bene his page, with his two bre­thren Iumeaux Marcis, and Mausis, goodly young men of the wealthiest familie of the citie of London, greatly affected to the good and safetie of the weale publique, and so many be­side of speciall name, as if I shoulde particularly sette them downe in writing, it would require more time than in this case is limited me. For if the fierce pagan put ten to death, his followers apparantly imitated his valour, in murthe­ring seauen or eight at the least, according as they coulde possibly reach them. Salazard with his semitarie smote off the head of Norgal among others, and quickly did the like to Longaro his cosin, two lustie young men, that were counted the best Fencers in all the city, but albeit their cunning and [...]encing made a fine shewe in their masters hall, it little a­uailed [Page] them against the vnspeakable force of this valyant pagan, who (with them) sliced through the middest of the bo­die. Aridos the good pilot, hee that in his life time had made many a voyage on the mediteranean sea, and from one side to another cutte through the wyde Ocean, to places where­of the names were neuer knowen. Cambarel cruelly slaughtered Medion a gallant disposed yong man of the city, whose father dying not long before left him abounding in goods and riches, and he beeing at libertie was affianced (for her beautie and vertue) to the fairest maide in the Citie, albeit she had no great dowry to her mariage, because her parents and friends were verie [...]oore. But this rich citizen beeing amorous of her, minded soone after to marrie her, and so li­uing in this sort, the pagan gaue end to his loue and hope at one s [...]roke, which so grieued Caluis, the brother germayne to fayre Auciana, the affianced maide, as hee woulde do his de­uoir to reuenge his death, but Cambarel [...] him with his sword from the head to the middle, and likewise slew Ami­ris the good Archer, as he was sending an arrow toward the fierce Zarlot, who on the other side made great spoile of the poore christians: but he had not the leasure to do it, for as he held vp his brasi [...]l bow, tipt at ech end with good harts horn, he fell downe dead to the earth, the blacke bloud issuing a­bundantly out at his mouth, through the cruell stroke the pagan gaue him with his sharpe skein. Not contented here­with, he smote the cunning cooke Piscan on the flank, he that was woonte to keepe the keyes of the gate of the Cittie, to open them in the morning and shut them at night, and so the good souldier fell dead to the ground: as likewise foure germaine brethren, who all that morning had laboured to repulse the enemie, and in the first shocke flew halfe a dozen with their guilded pikes, but when they brake through the throng, to driue the puissant Phago [...]roff backe againe from the breach, all striuing to auenge the death one of another, were in the ends slaughtered and spoyled in the breache [Page] by the right hande of this strong pagan Phagotroff, which proued very great losse to the christians, for besides that they were descended of verie noble race, their vertues and hardy courage made them worthie of high commendatious: the [...] being named Flexin, the next Lampos, the third Ar­taxe, and the youngest Robly, the foure sonnes of the loyall knight Tamiris, who long time serued king Floridamant, as master of his housholde, and died in his seruice, as now dyd his foure sonnes, in the defnce of theyr liues and Countrie-King Grandilaor that beheld this blodie slaughter and mer­cilesse murdering of the Christians, as well by these accur­sed pagans before named, as also the sixe huge gyantes be­longing to Angrafolt, became so passionate in his thoughts, that to reuenge the death of these foure hardie Gentlemen, he put himselfe forward against the pagan Phagotroff, who thinking to handle him as he had done the rest, was great­ly stonned when he sawe and knew by effectes, that hee had made an ouer-rash account, the christian prince laying such strokes on him with his sword, as in his life he had not felt the like. Wherefore looking more narowly to his busines, he couered himselfe with his shield, whereof Grandilaor had pared awaie a great part, and to began betwéen them a ve­rie hot skirmish, for if the christian prince was valiant and redie to armes, the bold pagan was no lesse than he. Which Zarlot and his brother perceiuing, trauailed so gréedilie to kill this Christian, as in despight (lea [...]ing the conflict wher they were dealing) they made great hast to runne furiously vpon him, but one of the ar [...]hers sent an arow so right from off the rampart, as entering the [...]ight of his helmet, was soundly planted in the midst of his eie, whereof hee felt such excéeding paine aud anguish, as hee f [...]ll downe in the place where he stood. Now is it not to be doubted whether Bran­dissant and his thrée brethren were offended hereat, for yee must thinke the [...] a [...]ger to be such, as they laid on the Chri­stians ten [...] than they had done before. [Page] And the Christians withall were so ioyfull, to sée one of their enemies chiefe pillers layd along, as they began likewise to vse better defence for thems [...]lues then they [...]yd before, and the rather, for that the princes Andregon and Lampridion (being néere on the other side) had slaine the two fierce Gy­ants Astort and Morganos, beside Rogemont that ventured first on the wall in the esca [...]ade, was by them so shamefully repuls [...]d, as falling plainly from the toppe of the breach, he was glad to get him out of the fight, with his leg broken in the middest: but the multitude of the pagans was so strong and valiant, as no man was able to stand before them, for as they sought to carrie awaie the wounded body of Zarlot, the Christians stroue to take it from them, in which attempt to many of them were slaine, as they were faine to let them haue the pagans bodie halfe dead, and flie for assuraunce of their owne liues, behind the rampart and bulwarke, which theyr labourers had raised before the breach, and thence to repell the enemies accesse was verie difficult. When King Floridamant noted this, hee went and came from one breach to another, euen where he perceiued the fight to be most vi­lent, and where a souldier might best set himselfe to worke: and holding his bloudie curtelar in his hand, séeing Grandi­laor, Andregon, Lampridion, and others sustaining the assalt on the side halfe vanquished, the breach being wel néere lost, such was the strength of the pagan kinges, princes and a­bounding multitude, hee cryed and called out vnto them in this ma [...]ner.

A [...] valiant knights and worthie men at armes, in whom gloryously shineth such prowesse and valour, as vnder the vault of heauen was neuer séene the lyke, now experience tels me, that your vertue is inuincible, and albeit the force of our enemyes is most great, ye haue notwithstanding such vnconquerable spirites, as the dread of death cannot cause ye to forg [...]t your deuoir, beeing so long since [...]aught, that it is much better to die with [...], then liue with shame [Page] and disgrace, which your generous mindes coulde neuer brooke, to haue your fame by the verie least meane impay­red. If alreadie you haue and still doe giue such terrour to to the enemie, as he knowes not whether he were best for­sake the place or no, deliuering you the signall of victorie in y [...]elding you his roome: assure your selues that whatsoeuer countenance they shew of hauing the better, yet in this ex­tremitie they know not to which of their Gods they should now make recourse. Courage, courage then most valyaunt knights and Gentlemen, boldly beate backe these heathen Infidels, I am here yet whole and sound to giue ye succour, and as your faithfull companion will liue and die with ye, not budging one foote from it, till either I be slaine or you [...]onquerours.

These wordes pronounced most chéerefully, and com­ming from so great a personage, gaue such courage to the Christian princes and souldiours there about him, especial­ly when they sawe the king not only in words, but in deeds endeuoured for theyr assistance: as king Grandilaor so rude­ly charged the pagan Phagotroff, who was climbing vp the top of the rampire, that he made him come tumb [...]ing down againe so loutishly, as he mist but verie litle of breaking his necke: neuertheles hee was so astonied and amazed, as his brethren and the rest which sawe him thought he had bene dead indéed. This [...]o inflamed theyr chiefe leader Brandis­sant, that he ranne with such furie on this valiant prince, as but for the spéedie helpe of king Floridamant he had there bin slaine out right, for he had giuen him such a peisaunt stroke with his [...]ace, as shiuering his [...]hield had almost broke his arme, and withall made him fall in a trance to the ground, which the pagan well no [...]ing, ranne to finish vp the last ac­cent of his life, but king Floridamant steped before him with such force and hardie courage▪ as the pagan feeling foure or fiue good strokes well and soundly layde vpon him, was gladde honestly to gette him gone, and forsake the rampyre [Page] which he thought to haue wonne, shewing notwithstanding in his recoyling some valour in his countenance. Nor can I compare his retire to anie thing better, than that of a ma­stiue dogge, that being well bitten with the teeth of one that is stronger than himselfe flyes without making semblance thereof, shewing his teeth for all that to the other that [...] him.

Thus threatned the pagan, when he was forciblie bea­ten from the rampire, shewing back his mightie mase with some meane ostentation, as though he would kill him that durst presume to [...]ollowe him. But king Floridamant, seeing that it was not so [...]xpedient to followe him, but rather to helpe Andregon and Lampridion, who were strongly beset by Salazard and Cambarell, as also a great nomber of theyr companie, against whom ( [...]auing so few soldiours) it was very ha [...]d for them to make resistance▪ therefore presently he directed his course thither, leauing the pursuite of Bran­dissant, and there so brauely behaued himselfe, that the Pa­gans perceiuing their cheefe leaders driu [...]n from the ram­part by the renowmed Christian king, the tr [...]nche likewise [...] againe, and many Pagans of name lay weltring in theyr bloud: they also tooke themselues to flight, wh [...]reat the olde Grandowin, who galloped with his Chariot hithe [...] and thither, to courage and harten vp his men, remembring how forward they were at the first▪ and no [...]e to flie with such manifest disgrace and shame, especially the king of T [...] ­uariffe his sonne▪ Howe n [...]we Brandissant? [...] I thought the place where you would giue the first assault, should be our vndoubted entrance into the Cittie: yet now to the contrary I behold, that you who should serue for an example of valour and ha [...]dines to all our h [...]ste, are the first that inciteth them to take their héeles, thereby to desist from so faire an enterprise, begun and hitherto continued hapily. If thou turne not once againe with thy men to the place frō whence thou camst, I will flatly say thou art not my sonne: [Page] neuer more will I thinke on thée or Angrefolt thy brother, if thou reuenge not theyr death slaine by the christian king, and this notorious iniurie offered vs. Retourne thou then with spéed vpon the enemie, without hope of euer comming backe againe, except thou bring the victory and spoyle of the Christians, for this is the daie or neuer, that must needes make vs Lozdes and commaunders in this strong and well defended citie.

The magnanimious Infidell strouting himselfe, and ha­uing with meruailous grauitie deliuered these wordes, his cruell sonne (followed by all his people at once) moued with excéeding rage and auger, retourned so [...]uriously vppon the Christians, as quickly made them re [...]ire within their ram­pires, so y ^• to behold theyr sallying forth, flight backe again, and eager pursuit of their gréedie enemies, I may well re­semble it to the mercilesse flotes of the Caspian sea, when the waters driuen by violence of the windes, beate fiercely a­gainst the hard [...], wherwith it is enuironed, when the [...]lames and billowes extreamly thereon rent asunder, con­ [...]usedly r [...]turne back again into the midst of the sea whence f [...]rst they went, and then re [...]ouering fresh vigour, againe and againe runne on the rockes more violently then before, so by going and comming still in vaine, theyr labour is besto­wed to no purpose or benefite. In like manner beganne and continued this new assalt, both by the scaling ladders, and in at the [...], as I wil declare vnto ye in Chapters follo­wing tending to such matter. For the [...]rueltie of this war hath now surprized me with such griefe of minde, as I am constrained a while to discontinue the historie, to speake of matters more pleasing, & which deliuer more swéetnes.

CHAP. 19.

I Stand in doubt I shall bee greatly bla­med, for hauing so long time let sléepe in silence, the successe of the amourous sick­nesse of the most fayre Princesse in the world, whose historie I haue discontinu­ed since the first chapter of this booke, by reason of the sundrie occurrences of warres, combates, and other aduentures, which compelled the flight of my pen to take that course, following a path not before trode or beaten, as ye haue read: wherein if your iudgements finde that I haue any thing fayled, I will at this instant make amends for that fault (if you account it a fault in so dooing) and speake so sufficiently thereof, as you shall haue reason to be contented. If then I forget not the scope of the story concerning hir, and the last spéeches we had in her cause, it may appeare, that we left her from the Cittie of Constantinople, in a Castle of pleasure or recreati­on belonging to the Emperour her father: where (to finde some ease for her amourous passions, though shaddowed vn­der the change of ayr [...]) the Phisition Sagibell wrought the meanes of conducting her thither, as yee haue read in the place before expressed. You remember likewise, in what [Page] [...]quipage she was conuayed from the Court, and howe the Emperour kept the treasure and wealth of his Empire in this fortresse, impregnable of anie force: it remayneth then that I tell yes at this present what happened while she so­iourned there, and howe her inflamed des [...]res were satis­fied.

It behoueth then that ye call to minde, how earnest she was to know certainly, whether her louer were aliue or dead, for which without ceasing, she importuned her phisiti­on, who, as well ye remember, was excellently skild in the magique art, whereby she should present to her eyes aliue or dead, the figure of him that gaue nouriture and some con­tentment to her amorous thoughts, that she might perceiue in what estate he was. The skilfull man ouercome with importunitie, prepared himselfe heereto, and settin [...] owne such parcels as he thought meete for the purpose, hee found [...] by rare chaunges and contradictions, that o [...]efarre better experimented in this arte than himselfe, medled with the same matter, whereby he was compelled to leaue his enter­prise imperfect and without [...]ffect. Wherefore, if while the more skilfull partie called on the spirites, he should haue of­fered to pr [...]céed further therin, the double strife would haue growen to such a confusion, as the smoke and tempest wold haue ouerthrowen or carried awaie the castle, wherein the princely maide for her pleasure was inclosed. To preuent so great an euil, the phisition gaue ouer in time, and withdrew his charmes in verie good season▪ declaring the occasion to the princesse, why he could not then bring to passe the thing she so much desired: yet assuring her withall, that very sone she should heare newes in some sorte, for which shee shoulde not tarrie anie long time, which proued true and came to passe as Sagihel had foretolde, for fiftéen daies after or ther­about, one night when the princes was in her chamber, dis­robing her selfe to go to bed, betwéene the hours of nine and ten at night, she heard a voice, and the sound of a lute, agrée­ing [Page] together so mellodiously, as among humane creatures was neuer heard swéeter harm [...]ie. And the song séemed to come from some ship on the sea, at the foot of the castle, wher then was appointed the princesse chamber, the effect of which song hereafter followeth.

[Page] As the fay [...]e Porphyria heard this Song begin with such an hermonio [...]s sound, shee was so rauished in conceit, as suddenly she ran and layd her head to the windowe, albeit she was neere disro [...]ed of all her garments▪ so s [...]e by the siluer shining rayes of the Moone, that this calme night shewed her bright and argentine face ouer the vauts of hea­uen, who it was that sung and played so swéetly, and came at such a late houre to performe the same. But she could not discerne any thing, neither beneath the Tower or anye where else, whence this most heauenly voice might procéed: onely she vnderstood the daintie mellodie of the Lute, and the voyce very perfectly which sung the song, the wordes whereof made her the more to muse, in that they better a­gréed with her disposition, then the sweetnes of the musique could giue her pleasure. Especially when she heard what consolation this vnknowne musitian promised, by the cer­taine hope of a future felicitie, of seeing him whose sight she so extreamely desired: and withall, to haue her amorous torments asswaged, which she had so long time impaciently suffered, and still enflamed her heart with most ardent de­sire of his loue.

Heerevpon, hauing forsaken the windowe, and beeing laid in her bed, all this night she could thinke on nothing but this song, imagining with her selfe, whence this know­ledge of her passions should proceed: then againe conceiuing this opinion, that the matter contayned in the Song was most certaine and true, deliuered from some person that bare her intire affection, and who (for her pleasure) was thus sent to comfort her amourous oppressions. Then re­membring how little assurance was to bee reposed, in the credence of such things as carryed no apparaunce of true si­militude, nor hauing any foundation on reason: shee was on the other side carried away with contrary opinions, ve­rily beléeuing, that this was but some charme doone by her Phisition, or else some other appointed by him, to make her [Page] hope well in her despaire, and fréed her selfe with vanitie in the middest of her misfortune, [...]herein shee was so soundly and surely intrapped, which humour bearing stroke with with her more this waie then the other, inforced her to re­nue her former tears, fighs and intire lamentations. Then tourning againe to remember what fewe daies before her phisition had tolde her, how one better skild than himselfe, had contraried his spels, whereby hee sought to giue her as­surance of her desire, comparing this with her first concei­ued imaginations, she then remained as doubtful as b [...]fore. These diuerse and contrarie opinions thus hammering in her head, made her tosse and tumble euerie waie in her bed, with great impatience, and these amorous tormentes com­pelled her to breath forth such vehement sighs, as her cousin Harderina (lodging in the same chamber) hearing her, de­manded what new disease had so surprized her, for i [...] shee would beginne againe her former immoderate vexations, especially at such a time when shee had so greate occasion of comfort, by so late good hope prophetically deliuered in the the song, which with such admiration they had hearde that night, in her opinion she was well worthie to be chidden. Ah swéet cosin, answered the princes, I know not what I shuld saie or thinke thereof, this is my feare, that I haue hearde, are but abusing charmes to deceiue me withall, to make me in the meane while lie languishing before my death, which euer yet and at this instant I earnestly wish for, for no way can I deuise to turne my selfe to finde my rest, wherefore I praie thée deare cosin, tell me faithfully what thou doest im­magine of all these passed euents, think [...]st thou there is not some bodie in the worlde, that by one meane or other either generall or particular, can tell me what shall happe [...], or else shew me some proofe, wherein I may repose some trust, how little to euer it be? Madame, quoth Harderina, I wyll tell you truly what I thinke, agréeing with what I haue [...]often here [...]ofore heard.

[Page]There are certaine maligne spirits deceiuers of men, which through the meanes of many Magitians, as there are too many: by a thousand illusions know how to deceiu [...] such as are lesse skild in that wicked science, making them to beléeue what is not, and so deceiue the sences of men or women, in causing them to credit certainly what they heare or see. The charmes of such doo vanish awaye like smoake, hauing no more vigor or efficacie then a dreame, so that the memorie thereof is as soone lost as found. There are other called bonum Genies or good angels, which by the meanes of good persons that call them in better sort, they are commanded in general what shall happen, without spe­ [...]ying any thing: and to reueale perticulerly what is to come, which kinde of spirits I haue oft times héeretofore heard, that a Fayrie of good disposition, dwelling in some parte of great Brittaine, which place of her abode could hardly yet be found: she (I say) knowes very well howe to command them, as also so skilfully to imploy them, albeit by diuine permission as is said: that shee makes them goe whether she thinkes good, locking them vp as shee list, and by charmes enclosing them in the bodyes of beautifull da­mosels, that inuisibly are transported hither and thither, wheresoeuer she commannds them, and not else. These da­mosels are called Fayries or Nimphes, one whereof per­haps by her commaund, did sing the Song to giue you some comfort: which if it were so, then verely I dare credit whatsoeuer the song disclosed: but for better knowledge of the trueth heerein, it is necessarie that to morrow you conferre with Sagibell, to vnderstand what in this case he will reueale to yee. Trust me Cosen, answered the Prin­cesse, I thinke ye may say true, for one reason which as yet you touched not, and whereof I was remembred by your spéech, to wit, that my knight (if mine I may name him) is commonly called the Fayrie knight, because a certaine fai­rie (as he said) dwelling in the same countrey you named, [Page] and called Ozyris, as hee tolde vs, had giuen him nourish­ment, and sent him likewise to my fathers court, there to receiue his order of knighthood. But how can that bee? (quoth then the faire princesse againe, continuing her spéech and doubting what reason should mooue her so to do) what knowledge hath she of me? can shee tell whether I loue or no? who should reueale it to her? or how can she diuine on matters so strange? this can neuer enter into my vnder­standing.

Well Cosen, well (replyed Harderina halfe a sléepe, wea­ryed to heare her talke so long in a place appointed for rest) sléepe, sléepe with patience, till to morrowe your phisition tell yee other newes, and in the meane while trouble not your selfe: but sléepe, and let mee doo the like, for all this night you haue not suffered me to enioy any quiet. When the faire Uirgin perceiued her cosen and deere companion wearie of talking, she held her peace, and soone after falling into a slumber, shee soundly slept vntill the next morning: when the sunne arose a little more earlye then shee did, on which day what happened, yee may read in the Chapters that follow héereafter.

CHAP. 20.

[Page] WHen the cléere morning had shewed her fayre countenaunce ouer the world, ac­cording as she was wont, and alredy the steads that drew Phebus chariot, were wel entered on theyr waie, to deliuer a­broad the splendor of his looks, the beu­tifull infant Porphyria awaked, dream­ing yet on the past song, and of the conference she had wyth her fayrie cosin and faithfull companion Harderina, especi­ally of that she tolde her, for resoluing of her doubt, which was, to talke with her phisition Sagibel, and vnderstande his opinion. For this cause with all spéed she sent her dam­sell Marcella to séeke him, at whose command the good and skilfull phisition fayled not to come presentlie, and being en­tered the chamber, finding the princesse as yet in her bedde, she discoursed vnto him all that happened the night past, as also what spéeches passed betwéene her cosin and her, in selfe same manner as ye read in the Chapter going before, ear­nestly intreating of conclusion of all, to tell her his aduise, what might be gathered thereby, most agréeing with truth, if by his art it were possible to comprehend anie matter cer­taine, wherunto the phisition (hauing noted euerie circum­stance) thus answered.

Madame, I cannot presently giue ye anie certaine reso­lution in these affayres, but betwéene this & mid day I will promise to tell ye truth of all, or at the least shewe yee some meanes whereby to knowe it. I praie thée then my good Sagibel, quoth the princesse, that thou haue precise regarde of the promised houre, or sooner, if it may be possible, go then and in the meane while vse what diligence yee can best de­uise, that at least I may knowe what thou coniurest, or else canst gather of this wonderfull accident. Immediatly the wise man departed the chamber, to compasse that she had in­ioyned him, for the intreates of the mightie are strict com­mandements to the meaner sorte, and so diligently heerein [Page] he behaued himselfe, that at the houre promised, hee fayled not to séeke his Ladie and mistres, finding her new risen from the table, hauing this daie dined with her cosin Har­derina.

Not a little ioyfull was she to sée him, being perswaded in her thoughts that her phisition had nowe promised some cataplasme for ease of her griefe, but the consolation she re­ceiued was not [...]erie great, for the phisition onely tolde her, that he could know nothing of all that was done. But his spirites had reuealed vnto him, that to knowe the certaintie in this case, it was expedient, that the Ladie which desyred such sound knowledge in these affayres, shoulde one nyght plaie on some instrument, and sing at the same windowe where shee hearde the song before: withall, the effect of her song should be, to aske the voice that had song what it was, the wordes and circumstance wherof should agrée with one that he had made for the same purpose, which he opened and gaue her, and shee learned it by heart euen at that instant. Now albeit the princesse receiued not such intire comfort, as then presently she expected, yet were her passions some­what mittigated, and this song serued her as a pastime all the after noone, to learne the lines perfectly and sing them well, as before night with her lute she made it agrée verie excellently, and so cunningly could she touch euerie string, that both the dittie and musicke fitted passing well her owne desire.

When the daie was passed, and night approched, for that she could not with patience tarrie till the next morrow, she tooke her Lute in her hand, and going vnto the windowe, playde thereon meruailous swéetly, and shaping her swéete voyce to the daintie melodie, sung this song as heereafter followeth.

When shee had song these two verses of this song, shee sodainly ceased, according as the Phisition had instructed her: to trie if the voice woulde beginne againe to aunswere as immediatly it did, playing and singing in the verie same tune shee dyd, and thus was the voyces answere.

This made the Princesse continue on her song, being ve­rie glad that she had answere to her interrogations, and de­s [...]rous to haue further matters tolde her, in her song she be­ganne againe in this manner to question with the voice.

[Page] So breaking off her song in this sorte, the voyce would make her no more answere, which made her more curious and full of greefe then before: yet remembring what the voyce had said, that one day when she should sit alone by a Fountaine, she should be satisfied in the rest of her demanud and finde ease for her languishing: héervpon seauen or eight daies together continually, without letting scape any day, she went & lay downe in the Arbor or Garden, where were thrée or foure verie stately fountaines, and by euery one she sate downe to sléepe, that she might haue answer accor­ding as the voyce had promised: but this desire was so pro­foundly aduanced within her thoughts, as shee could com­passe no way to forget it, and the remembrance therof com­pelled her as far from sléeping, as she most coueted to come néere it: for the restles humors and fantacies did so conti­nually beat vppon her heart, as would not permit her the very least moment of quiet, and the neerer shee approached the Fountaines to fasten on a sleepe, the more did these a­bounding vexations torment her. Hauing continued in these insupportable agonies the space of eight dayes, the length and vehemence of, which trauaile had so ouerwea­kened her, as now she wexed heauie and desirous of sleepe: one day when she least thought h [...]ereof, she was sequestred from all her companie, and going alone into the Garden (not perceiued by any one) about the time of midday, she sat downe by a Fountaine in the middest of the Garden, which was round beset with daintie. Arbours and Cabinets of Gessemine, Rose trées, with floures and hearbes of all sorts that smelled most swéetly: and excellent pure water flowed from the fountaine, being brought thither in pipes from foure fayre Griffons, that were placed in the foure cor­ners of the Garden, which was equall square euery waye. On the side of this fountaine sat downe the young Princes who had past so many nights without receiuing any rest, and thinking nowe but to [...]lumber a little, shee slept there [Page] soundly the space of two houres, without knowledge to any of her attendants what was become of her: each one sup­posing verily she had lockt her selfe into her chamber, as di­uers dayes before (to couer her melancholly) she was wunt to doo. It so happened, that about the verye latest mo­ment of her sleeping, the water of the Fountaine murmu­red and made such a mightie noyse, as oftentimes the trou­bled sea dooth, when beeing stirred with great and most tempestuous winds, the fierce billowes beat either against some stonie rock, or driues vp the sandes against some pro­montorie, aspiring vp sharpe pointed from the middest to the top: by meanes whereof the faire Infant quickly awa­ked, dreaming that she was not by the side of so faire a foun­taine, but on the raging of the sea, which leaped against the foundations of the Castell wall, and mooued very extream­lie as séemed to her.

Being thus awaked, the bruite of the water ceased, and appeared before her the most fayre Nimphe Aegle, resem­bling in beautie not any humaine or liuing creature, but rather some deitie or matter celestiall: such as comming néere the newe built walles of Carthage, appeared to the Troyan prince her sonne. Euen so this beautifull Naiade séemed to the princely maide, who at the first sight of her was some what astonied, doubting whether she should take her selfe to flight, or tarie still there, or whether this appari­sion was to encrease her heauinesse, or bring her comfort. This being well perceiued by the fayre Nimphe, who héer­tofore had amazed the most assured by her presence: she spake to her in this manner: bee not afrayd (O princesse of rare vertues, and the fayrest creature in the world) nor be a [...]a­shed at my vnexpected appearing into your presence: for I am the Nimphe Aegle, seruant to the fayrie Ozyris your knights Nursse: by her commaundement, and according to the promise I made ye eight or nine daies since, I am come to yee in this place, not any way to astonnish or affright ye [Page] but rather to bring yee ioy and consolation, by giuing yee certaine resolution in a doubt, wherein yee haue liued and languished too long, to wit, whether your knight bee dead or aliue: to acquaint ye moreouer, with what I knew of his birth and valour.

The young princesse lending eare attentiuely to these wordes, cheered vp her thoughts, and tooke great pleasure in contemplating the excelling beautie of this fayre Noiade, as also to heare her swéete and gratious language, the sence and substance whereof concerned the thing shee most desi­red, and was so agréeable to her. So that longing to heare what the Nimphe had promised, after a modest and ciuill kinde of questioning, she thus made answere. Whatsoeuer thou be (most faire and gentle Nimphe) right welcome art thou into this place, and albeit thy presence at the first brought me some cause of feare and displeasure: yet now on the contrary, I am as glad and ioyfull héere to beholde thee, for reasons as yet knowne to thy selfe: and this ioye I receiue by sight of thée, procured the motion and change thou didst note in my countenan [...]e, not any fright, feare, or discontent, receiued through thy beeing with mee. If then thou hast any thing to tell mee, chéefely concerning that I most desire to know, I pray and intreat thée againe and a­gaine, by the reuerence and respect thou bearest to thy Mi­stresse Ozyris, by these Fountaines and waters which thou hauntest, and wherein thou delightest vsually to bathe thy selfe: likewise, by the loue and honest affection thou bearest my knight, by the golden tresses of thy haire, with the swéet fauour and beautie I beheld in thy face: I coniure thée not to depart from me, vntill thou hast tolde me, who and what the knight is that beareth name of the Fairie, of whence hee is, where and in what part hee is at this present, and whether he be dead or liuing. Tell me withall, if his affec­tion be such to me, as mine is to him, what ease, helpe and comfort, or loue like recompence, I shall receiue in the end [Page] for the loyall affection I beare him, and what will bee the issue of both our loues.

Thy knight (faire princesse) answered the Fayrie, is a man vertuous and of great valour, for he is the onely vali­ant, and most accomplished knight in all perfections, that at this day liueth, or heereafter shall liue vppon the earth: in like manner, his exhor [...]ation or originall hath he receiued from a father, that is the most hardiest king on earth, no one so worthie to weare a crowne royall, namely, the great monarch Floridamant of England, a prince so perfect and ac­complished as may be possible. He being in quest of sundrie strange aduentures, which long time hee exercised as a knight errant, onely to acquire honor and reputation: left his quéene conceiued with childe, wherof she was deliuered in the absence of her king, and he was nourished vnder the wing and gouernement of the quéene his mother, vntill the age of seauen or eight yeares: when the skilfull Fayrie O­zyris, who all her life time bare good affection to the king, in the countrey where shee her selfe inhabited, as also to all that were of his familie: knowing and perceiuing well by her skill▪ that if the young prince should remaine long time in his fathers Court, hee was destined to incur some great mis [...]haunce, euen no lesse then a strange and cruell death: by sudden inuention she found the meane to rob her of her Son, in respect, that if this misfortune had happened, it would haue prooued such an exceeding domage and preiudice, not onely to all the realme of great Brittaine, but likewise all the Christians that liue vnder heauen neuer felt the like, in regard of the good they should one daye recei [...]e by him. Hauing then so subtilly gotten him away, I will not tell you how or in what manner, because it requireth too long a discourse, and I intend to tell yee but breefely, the prin­cipall points of this historie.

She nourished and brought him vppe long time, in her riche and opulent Fayrie, which is as huge & big or rather [Page] greater, then the wydest kingdome in the worlde, and there enstructed him in all good manners, vntill hee was of able age, and capable to beare knightly armes, whereby hee might discouer what hee was. She prouiding him of all things necessarie for a knight, chusing and appointing him as her loyall and faithfull seruant, she being the wisest and most faire princesse liuing, as likewise he is the most valiant and vertuous knight in the world: directed his course, sen­ding him as thou knowest and canst very well testifie and witnesse, to the princely Court of the great Emperour thy father: where what befell him, thou canst tell without my reporting, as also thou wast not ignorant of his depar­ture.

What is become of him euer sithence his departure, would require a long time to recount, & the houre of my de­parture so vrgently presseth me, as at this instant I can tel thee no more, because I am constrained to leaue thee. But to morrow, at the selfe same houre I came this day, I pro­mise to returne againe, not onely to tell the rest of his ad­uentures, but to let thee sée them all, to thy great pleasure and contentment. Hauing thus spoken, the Nimphe plun­ged her head at the first into the water of the Fountaine, and so departed, where likewise I meane to finishe this Chapter.

CHAP. 21.

[Page] THe nymph Aegle hauing thus left the company of the yong princes, she remained very pensiue, & more desirous than before, to know the newes of her knight, for now shée would faine bee acquainted with what the nymph had concealed, not contented with what was al­readie reuealed, though in some sort pleased, by knowing that her part and amorous desires aimed at no meane or base obiect, but so sortable and worthy as she could make choice of. And verie certaine it was, that in those times there was no Empire or monarch more re­nowmed nor anie king or Christian prince more esteemed, then was the realme of great Britaine, & the worthie king Floridamant. For his predecessors and himselfe had inlar­ged and augmented theyr gouernment further a great deal then the continent of England, not onely by their force and prowesse, but likewise by their swéete curtesse and benigni­tie, so valiant did they euermore shewe themselues to bee, as also humane and affable withall, yet al this aduantage was not sufficient to satisfie the princely maide, but rather vrged her to more pensiuenes and impatience, vnderstanding him to be of such rase and originall, whome before shee reckoned and estéemed but as a simple knight arrant: now proouing to be of so high extraction and great birth, hauing seated her affections in place of such dignitie, she remayned still doubt­full whether he were aliue or dead, for so long absence might verie well raise great and vehement suspition thereof. Here vpon she withdrew her selfe secretly into her chamber, bee­ing much discomforted and verie passionate as before, mu­sing and pondering much more profoundly on her new and fresh conceites, than on the discourse of the beautifull and fayre Nymph Aegle: and albeit shee was indifferentlie comforted thereby, yet made shee no signe or semblaunce [Page] thereof to her cosin. Wherefore when the night was come, thinking in the darke shade the nymph would come again, and resolue her in the rest of her desires, shee went to the window and song the same vearses which the phisition had taught her, but all was in vaine, for shee hearde no song but her owne, nor anie mellodie but her Lute, which made a heauenly concordance with her voyce. Fayre Aegle was deafe for this night, and woulde not make answere to her musicall questions, but when the morning was come, and the rising Sunne made shew of a new daie, the young prin­cesse hauing enioyed no rest all that night, amorous imagi­nations had so carryed her thoughts to and fro, with wish­ing and rewishing for the midde daie houre. So wearing a­waie the tediousnesse of the time with as greate patience as he could, at the last she got her againe to the same fountains side, where she had slept the daie before, and the nymph Ae­gle retourned thether agayne while the princesse slumbe­red, making lyke noyse as at the first she dyd, wherwith the Infant awaked, marie not so much afrighted as earst shee had béene, but beeing verie gladde to beholde and see the fayre face of the demie goddesse, from whome shée hoped to receiue greater consolation then shee had done in the daie before.

Now the Fayrie had brought with her a sphere, or for your better vnderstanding, a bowle of peeces of engrauen wood, made in forme round lyke a sphere, wherein appeared the whole vniuersall world, how it was inclosed, and name­ly the earth, with all the prouinces contained therein, pain­ted after the lyfe, and in such sorte, as within it ye might be­holde the mouing of the starres of heauen, the foundation of the massie earth, the cloudie ayre, wyth the fluxe and re­flowing of the Ocean, the other seas, and the riuers that binde in the earth, with all the roundnesse of the terrestriall globe.

These things might there be discerned with more plea­sure [Page] and contentment than they can conceiue that trauaile farre, to see a little portion or many particulars, of that which this fayre Nymph shewed at one time to the Infant Porphiria. For you must vnderstand, that hauing drawen from forth the siluer waters of the cleere fountaine, this di­uine peece of workemanship so lately named, shee opened a certaine little couerture, which was expressely made to discouer all the rest within, at the opening whereof she vsed these wordes to the princesse.

I will let thée sée heerein, vertuous and fayre princesse, all the vniuersall world, presented in the proper lyfe and figure, wherein likewise thou shalt beholde thy knight, and all his aduentures, which happened since his departure from thee.

Speaking these wordes, hauing opened the doore that was aboue, wherein was contained the figure of heauen and the starres, shee parted in three partes the rest of the round Gloabe, which when the princesse sawe discouered, she cast her lookes on that parte where Affrica was repre­sented, and questioning thereof with the fayre A [...]gle, shee sa [...]e, I praie thée beautious Nymph, fauour me more than with the bare sight of the wide world, before thou shifte to anie other place, tell mee what parte is this heere first de­scribed, inhabited with people so barbarous, grosse and ru­sticall, because they come first to sight, and tell mee what de­sarts these are, that nourisheth and bréedeth such infinite number of sauage and cruell beasts. This is that part, an­swered Aegle, which is named Affrica, defenced on the one side toward the Sunne rising, with the greate floud, which ye heare with such mercilesse noise come from the moun­taines, and by seauen chanels or mouths runs into the bo­some of Thetis, called Nylus. On all the other sides it is enuironed with the sea, especially on the North coast with the Libique sea, whereon the auncient people called Pe­nes, exercised many outragious and extreame piracyes, [Page] these people came of the [...]henicians, that passed thether with Dido Qu [...]ene of Carthage and the Gréekes, more an­cient than they that passed thether before with Hercules. And to tell thée in few words (least I should offend yée with tediousnes) with what other regions this land is inhabited, ye must vnderstand that Ethiopia is this which ye sée rising from the red sea, and butting on Arabia, neighbouring to­warde the North with the Egyptians and Lybians, who were so called after a man named Aethipos, that the olde Pagans sayde was the sonne of Uulcan: he being the first king, all the region tooke the name of him. Then may yee discerne here on the other side, the habitation of these olde i­dolatrous Egyptians, a verie fertile region, which in elder time was called Aeria, and since thē cleped Egypt, by a bro­ther to Danaus so tearmed. On the west is the limitro­phing borders of Cyrena, towards the east it beholdeth Pa­lestine, and on the North side the mediterranean sea. The great citie which yee sée in this region so well seated, with walls so ancient, and whose proud pallaces are now like an olde ruined mazure, is the ancient citie of Thebes, whereof Amphion is sayd to laie the first foundation, and the king to whom Andromache, wife to the hardie Hector, was daugh­ter, being there slayne when cruell Achilles entered to sacke and spoyle the towne, murdering seuen of his children, the future hope of his genealogie: since which time this ancient citie hath continued in such had estate as ye beholde it. But afterward in this other place was builded by king Alexan­der the great this other beautifull citie, the walles whereof are not so ancient as the other, and according to the name of the edifier, it is named Alexandria. Sée on the other side in the same prouince the citie called Abiros. Here is proud Ba­bylon and the citie of Memphis, renowmed by reason of the meruailes which Queene Semyramis there builded and e­rected.

This other greate Citie and wonderfull strong, [Page] whose walles are more fresh, as also beeing more newlye builded then all the other: is the famous Cittie of Hiero­polis, so called in former times, but at this present is na­med the graund Cayre, which signifieth a Fortrosse in E­gyptian language: in this Cittie lies the king or Soldan of all the countrey. Héere in this parte, not farre from the people I told ye off before, that made many courses and pi­racies on, the Lybian sea, I meane the Phoenitians, which are deuided into sundrie regions and prouinces: for héere are the Namasones in Lybia and Marmarica, drawing to­wards the kingdome of Barcha néere the sea: there are the Guydanes their neighbours, who in steed of bearing buck­lers with them to the warres, doo carrye the Skinnes of Cranes.

On the other side, countenauncing the sennes Trytonia, are the Machlides, that weare theyr hayre (as there ye may beholde one) long behinde, and are powled short before, con­trary to these other called Anses, who as the painter dis­cribes, weare theyr hayre long before and shorte behinde: theyr daughters once a yeare fight extreamely with stones, in honour of the Goddess Minerua, whom they adore. The great mount ye sée not farre from this place, is the mount Atlas, whereby the neighbouring people are called Atlan­tide, which in the greatest heate of the day rayle the sunne, and cu [...]sse it with many iniurious spéeches. They that are on this side, hauing the right side of their heads shor [...]e, and raced toward the-left side: are called Maxes▪ that vsuallie paint their faces with Uermillion, and make vaunte of theyr discent from the Troyans: as likewise do these Zi­gantes, being not farre off from them, and they liue by the flesh of Apes, wherwith the countrey meruailou [...]ie aboun­deth.

These other abiding in the region of the Hesterues, are named Troglodites, otherwise Megauares: people that be­ing dead make no account of buriall, but after the decease [Page] of buriall, but after the decease of one of them, they vsually come to the place where he is, and being loden with stones, in a great laughter they throw them at him, and so retur [...]e againe without any thought of death. To these are next neighbours the Hylophages and Spermatophages: the first are so called, because that for their nourishment or food, they climbe and craule vp Trées like Squirrels, and there cut­ting the tender sprigs or branches, feed thereon and so liue. The other are so named, because they substantiate their bo­dies with many séedes of hearbes, that come from the midst of the marishie grounds in that soyle. There hard by like­wise are the Ceneigdes, which inhabit the woods, and sit sleeping all the night on the trées, like birds. Furthermore concerning such like people, in the deserts of Lybia, are the Acridophages, which liue onelye but by Locusts that are found is those deserts, and therevpon they are so called. In the extreame being of this part of the world, are the Cyna­nimes, so called by the Greekes in their language, but wee call them sauage men. They which yee see heare all naked, are the Ichtipophages, and there is the place called the cape of Gardafuni, which lookes on Arabia named the happie, where are the kingdomes of Adel and Barnagas. In this marshie Isle, neighbour to Aethiopia and mount Atlas, na­med Hesperia, within the Tritonian [...]ennes: dwell the Ama­zones, women experimented in feates of warre, and which onely manage the affayres of theyr common wealth, with out men medling or inhabiting among them. I leaue all the other people that are heere in this parte, because it would be ouer long to expresse their names, life, manners, and dayly behauiour: wherefore passing ouer this straite, that seperates the great Ocean from the Mediterranean sea, called Gibaltare or Hercules pilles: is the kingdome of Hea, which hath on the north side the Ocean and Athlan­tique sea, and toward the middest, the great mount Atlas I shewed ye before: there also are the kingdomes of Phez, [Page] Marocco, Alger and Thunis, inhabited with terrible and cruell people, and soure Pagan kings all cosens germaine: in their possessions they are very mightie men, well skild in warring against theyr enemies. But aboue all, the king of Phez is of high resolue and meruailous valiance, as I will declare to yee anon, when seeing the place where hee is at this present, I shall recount the meruailous aduenture hap­pening him, so long since forborne: and with speech of him, I will likewise tell ye tidings of your Colen Pharisor, who is as sorrowfull as you for the wante of his companion. They that gouerne these two kingdomes of Marocco and Alger, the one named Phoas, and the other Orontes, haue led in their conduct a great multitude of the barbarous people of theyr Realmes, to sight against the Christians, and with huge numbers of Pagans expressely assembled, séeke to destroye the great and famous Cittie of London, wherein king Floridamant father to your knight, is cruelly besieged, in danger to loose his li [...]e, or see himselfe disposest of crowne and kingdome: but God of his infinite goodnes will prouide some helpe, that such misfortune shall neuer befall him.

As for the third, vnder whose lawes and commaunde­ments they of Thunis are gouerned, to wit, Adylas: I will likewise tell yee more when we meet him in place where he is, to let ye know what he hath doone, and then shall yee see him that yee are so desirous of. But before this may bee doone, or you attaine to behold the long wished place: I will tell yee what these fayre Islandes are which you see within the Sea, the neere bordering neighbours to this kingdome.

Knowe then that these are the Hesperides, otherwise called Fortunate Isles, and commonly Canaries, not such as many haue esteemed them to bee, they are greatlye a­bounding in Dogges: but much more fertile are these aforesayde Isles abounding in store of Reedes or Canes, [Page] from which are made the Melasses Cassonades, and then Su­gars most fine and swéete, abounding in very great quan­titie. The people there dwelling, are subiects to a puissant Pagan king, who at this daye swayes the scepter thereof, named Brandissant, that chased thence sometime Argamor, the cruell father to foure sonnes, who succoured king Bran­dissant in so dooing, because the king had promised to each of them, one of these Isles for his part, and seuerally they should weare kingly crownes, such was their greedie desire to reigne before theyr fathers death, whose life was more offensiue to them, then any infectious disease to a healthfull time: according to which promise, after that Argamor was then chased thence, who afterward dyed with extreame greefe: the foure brethren, the eldest whereof is named Salazard, the second Zorlot, the third Canibarell, and the fourth Phagotroff, had the gouernment of the foure isles by them demaunded, conditionally, that thence [...]foorth they should be obedient to the commaundements of great king Brandissant, and liues as they ought vnder his Empire: all these are likewise at this instant in these warres, with great multitude of the Islanders, and other neighbours that owe tribute and allegeance, in company of the father to Brandissant, who hath engirt with siedge (as I told ye be­fore) the famous Cittie of London, assisted by many more whereof ye shall know anon. Thus breaking off, the faire Nimphe Aegle turned and quickly ioyned together the se­perated partes of the sphere, which beeing inuisibly closed and brought into the former estate, and casting it into the Fountaine, immediatly she threw her selfe in after it: pro­mising to returne againe vpon the more owe, to tell what remained to the princesse of Constantinople: she sitting still by the fountaines side, rauished with ioy and delight for seeing such are sights, and heere because the day conti­nued no longer▪ wee gaue great reason to knitte vp thys Chapter.

CHAP. 22.

GReat pleasure tooke the fairest of fayre Princesses in the world, daughter lyke­wise to the most mightie Emperour in the worlde, to beholde so many notable thinges in so small a time or space, as I haue declared to yee in the Chapter go­ing before: and desirous to knowe with all what yet remained, the next day she failed not to be at the selfe same place, experting the comming of the Nymph Ae­gle, who should discouer the deapth of her desire. In like ma­ner, the Nymph, according to her promise, came in such e­quipage as she had done the daie before: and beeing there a­riued, found the princesse willing to sée the other meruay­lous strange and arteficial matters, that were diuinely en­grauen within the round bowle, where before she had noted so many singular things alreadie exercised. The fayre Nymph opened agayne that rare péece of workemanshippe, bidding her behold and touch with her finger all that which Asia contained, and first on the East side leading towardes the North, shee shewed her the seconde parte of the worlde▪ bounding on the great floud of Nylus, which watereth E­gipt from Tanais to Mors maior or the Euxine sea, and one part with the mediterranean, but on all sides it is enuiro­ned with the hoge Ocean: in shewing whereof, the nymph thus spake. This land which ye sée is named As [...]a, beeing of such gret [...]es, & comprehend such spacious circuit of ground, [Page] as it containeth more vnder the name than doth Affrica or Europe. It is vnder a calme and temperate heauen, the soil being verie fertile and fruitful, in bringing forth all sorts of hearbs and plants, the reason thereof is, because it ab [...]und­eth in all kinde of beasts. It is also inriched with golde and siluer, and such drugs as are not common to other countries or parts of the world: likewise with brasse, yron, wooll, saf­fron, and many other things of great price and value, especi­ally in this part of Arabia which is called happy, containing within it [...]elf an Ile called Pauchaia, vpon the gulfe of Per­sia, enriched with thrée fayre and stately cities, to wit, Dali­da, Hirracida, and Occeanida, wher the country is also most fertile, abosiding in wines, myrrhe, incense, gold, siluer, lead and other like mettals, which by particular ordinaunce, the Pauchaians will not permit to bee transported foorth of o­ther countries. Assyria, that long since was named Assur the sonne of Sem, is this region which yee sée heere, hauing the countries of India and Media towarde the East, and west­ward the violent floud that passeth by the citie of Rome, cal­led Tigris: about the midst it regardeth the soile of Sus [...]an, and by North it is neighbor to mount Caucasus, wher rain faileth, this countrie is watered by the riuer Euphrates, as Egypt in like manner is by flowing Nylus: not by naturall propertie or abounding of the riuer, but by industrie of the inhabiting people. Here southward to the Egyptian or me­terranean sea, ye see the country so far famed & renowmed, called Iudea or the land of Chan [...]an, and here is Palestine, which by helpe of the floud Iordane is made verie fruitfull in many things for the life of man, especially in producing the best balme in the world. The middest of this region is so seated as ye may behold it, that neither heat or cold are at a­nie time more ouer vehement there, but the aire is so tem­perate, as the Israelites sometime imagined this to bee the land of promise, euen the same that God had promised to A­braham. In this countrie may ye sée your fayre cosin Phari­sor [Page] for the gentle knight, who disguised like a pilgrime trauay­leth in search of your knight: but going on full of deuotion to worship the holy sepulchre of the worlds sauior, he hath met with the braue king of Phez who hath a little hindered his iourny. In speaking these words the nymph shewed the prin­cesse her cosin Pharisor, in the same place where we left him, listning to the good king of Phez, who recounted his aduen­ture and genealogie to the holy hermit, by whose meanes he receiued cure of his wounds, which brought her such excee­ding pleasure as is impossible to be imagined, much lesse to be written And had it not bene for earnest desire to sée her owne knight, she would haue intreated the nymph to tel her by what aduenture he came thether, and likewise what the king of Phez was: but she was so earnest in her owne affec­tions, as hauing a while pleased her eies with loking on her cosin, she importuned the fayre nymph more pearcingly then before, to shew her speedily the place where her own knight was, being now in farre better hope of seeing him, then at anie time else: the nymph willing to satisfie her lōging, thus continued on her spéech. If your affection drewe mee not so so soone from this Land, I would shewe yee therein manye more meruailous things, as the behauiour and manner of life, of the auncient Iewes that inhabit it, with sundrie o­ther strange occasions, worthie to bee vnderstood: but bee­ing sent hither onely to accomplish your will, and to let yee see what is most agréeable to ye, let vs passe on, viewing a­while the Medes and Armenians. The countrey of the first tooke name by one of the sonnes of Medea, and king Ae­gens that long since commanded in Athens: albeit it is more likely, of one Medos, sonne to Iaphet, one of Noahs children. This neighboring sea on the north side, is the Caspian sea, and that to the weast is great Armenia and Assiria: to the south are the Persians, of whom wee will speake anon, to the East lie the Pa [...]theans & Hirceans: these people haue bin mighty in war, & had large domination ouer diuers regions [Page] as credible histories doe amplie beare witnes: but at this present they are as slaues and subiectes to the mightie and puissant monarch of Persia, who in former time conquering their king, made them tributarie to his owne Empire. Ma­rie that wil be but of slender continuance, by reason of your so farre famed beautie, which will prooue as hurtfull and dangerous to them, as Helens did to the Gréekes and Tro­ians: and seeing now we are in talke thereof, I will let you knowe both the present and future aduenture, and, by the same discourse, the fairie knight your long desired and wish­ed loue.

The great monarch, who by his valour hath dayly aug­mented and inlarged his monarchie, shewing himselfe in all places inuinsible to his enemies, hauing by fortune séen the portraite of your beautie somewhat figured nere the life became so surprised with your loue, as neuer since hath hée inioied anie rest, which was the cause (as not long since you vnderstood) vppon amorous constraint hee required you in marriage of the Emperour: but by reason of his difference in religion, the Emperour [...]ound an excuse to refuse the ma­riage. But notwithstanding this refusall, hee is growen so obstinate in his opinion, of inioying yee eyther by force or fayre means, thinking he cannot liue without ye: as hauing caused his people to change their religion, to take away the former allegation of refusall, he is departed long since from his kingdome, and commeth in person into this country, on­ly to require ye once more in marriage: when if he be deni­ed, he meanes to carry ye hence, wherof it behoues ye to take héed, for he will doe his vttermost, which, ye must perswade your selfe, will proue no little matter. But I hope my Lady Ozyris will assi [...]t ye wi [...]h such good councell, as in the end ye shall escape the hands of this tyrant, who, to speake s [...]oth, beareth ye entire & earnest affection. But soone after, when once he might glut himselfe with the swéetnes of your loue and fauours, he will so hate and set [...]e his heart agaynst you, [Page] as the most foule woman in the world, shall be more fayre and amiable in his eye, then [...], such is the nature of this barbarous king.

Now while hee trauailes in vaine about these affayres, he shall one day sée himselfe depriued of Crowne and Scep­ter, which he will take from him, whom he seekes to rob of his greatest good for this effect. Sée héere alreadie his king­dome troubled and deuided, for you must note that all the people in his realme are reuolted one against another, be­cause some are good and true Christians, and others, onely gouerned by frenzie, fearing that their king will renye his Christianitie: & by force of armes seeke to reduce the rest to their former religion, which beeing vnable to compasse, such venemous hatred and despight is kindled amongst them: as hee must hope of another remedie for so great an euill, but euen a new mutation of the kingdom and gouern­ment, which will so come to passe in very short while. For your knight, who is arriued heere but lately since, shall prooue to be their new Lord and king, after he hath some­what more trauailed and suffered for the same. Then when he hath brought all into quiet, and gathered the people vn­der his obeysance: the destenies, who will not staye his course from better fortunes, in a place so straunge, and with so few exploits of his vertue and prowesse: shall fill his sailes to more high desires, especially the incomparable loue he beareth you, and extreame affection in him, to let you sée by effects, the seruice hee hath vowed to your diuins beautie: this shall make him (for some while) abandon this famous Monarchie, for euer to continue in dooing déedes of vertue, laudable and worthie of great admiration. Du­ring which pursuite, these people being againe reuolted, he shall send hither a strong and valiant knight, who with great paine and trauaile, shall once more bring these mu­tinous rebels vnder his awe and obedience: his name, by reason of his generous acts and braue enterprises, shall be [Page] knowne from this part to the other side of the Pole, yea, hee shall bee so redoubted and feared, as the verye hardiest shall tremble to heare him spoken of. In this time, the Sophie, transported with amourous affections, not able to com­passe his desseignes and enterprises: will vnfortunately end his dayes, as your selfe in time shall perfectlye beholde. You tell me meruayles, answered the princesse, but yet yee shewe me not where the knight is, according to your for­mer promise: of whom though I was desirous to heare, yet should I be much more pleased so behold him. Lady, quoth the Nimphe, it is as necessarie for yee to knowe all these things, as it is expedient for you to sée him, because I am assured, both the one and other is agreeable to yee. Looke now then on this Orientall region, which is called Persia, of Perseus the sonne to Iupiter, and fayre Danae daughter to Acrisius, king of the Argiues, according as poeticall fables testifie. Regard I pray ye, how many thousand armed men are heere asse [...]bled, euen for the occasion so lately expressed. See this famous Cittie called Tauris, neighbour to the Medes, a people not long since spoken of: behold how it is besieged by the Persian pagans, vnder the conduct of a young foole named Mauspasian, brother to the Sophie, hee that hath caused all this warre: behold into what extremi­tie these poore Christians are brought, that are within the Cittie, they haue nothing left but bread and wine to pre­serue life withall, and within these fewe dayes they were constrained, to [...]éede vppon the flesh of their horsses, which was openly solde in the butcheries of this faire goodly cit­tie: yet will they not (for all this) yeeld to theyr enemies, or forsake their religion, but trusting in succour from aboue, because else-where they cannot expect anye, rather desire héere to finish their liues miserablie. Sée the other goodlie Cittie of Susa, almost in the same necessitie: looke on dis­tressed Ariodant, the prop and sole comforte of the Christi­ans, who by flight escaped the hands of Adylas king of Thu­nis, [Page] that would haue slaine him by treason, because he refu­sed to yéeld him selfe prisoner: On this other side, beholde the braue minded knight Taffinor, who halfe dead, by good hap fell into your knights company, and he healing him of a mortall wound, vndertakes to reuenge the iniurie doone him by the traitour Adylas: O inestimable, and (not to bee comprehended) curtesie, of so braue a knight. Sée I pray ye, with what deuoyre he begins to pursue this vengeance, see Argontes, the fauourits of king Adylas, dead on the ground vnder his horsse, slaine by the valiant right hand of this re­nowmed knight, with many other of his complices, the most appara [...]t and best knights in the host of Adylas. Not contented heerewith, note with what fierce hardinesse hee assayles the mightie pagan, euen within his Tents, not­withstanding he is accompanied with three or foure hun­dred knights of name and marke, euen the men of greatest valour in all the kingdome. It will not be long, before a hot and dangerous fight happen betweene them, from which A­dylas shall not escape (by my aduise) so well as he wee [...]eth, Thus spake the fayre Nimphe, and euermore as shee dis­coursed, shewed all these things vnto the princesse, who was so ioyfull, seeing her knight represented to the life, as shee forgot to vse any more questions: and albeit the figure of him was very little, yet I thinke no tongue can expresse, no pen can set downe, neither hath any heart the power, to comprehend the surpassing c [...]ntentment she enioyed at this instant.

The historie reporteth it to bee so great, that she wept with conceit of ioy, and loosing all countenance, so far for­gat her selfe, that she offered to run and embrace him in her armes, yea, to salute him with a sweete kisse: but her la­bour was in vaine, as well in regarde, that the workman­ship and vis [...]on of all these things, were not to bee touched by humaine creatures: as also because the fayre Nimphe hindered her, and would not permit her to come neere it. [Page] Ouer and beside all the former representations, she shewed her the dead figure of the Sauage Polyppe, recounting the wonderfull combats Gerileon had with him, in such sort as yee haue read in the Chapters treating thereof. The shape heereof was so fearfull to her, as shee became troubled in minde out of measure: which made the Nimphe quicklye remooue it from her sight, and plunging into the Foun­taine water, vanished away, with whose departure we knit vp this two and twenteth Chapter.

CHAP. 23.

BEcause the change of discourse, brings no lesse delight to the Reader, then the vari­etie of daintie viands contenteth such as take theyr repast: for a while I intende to change our purpose, leauing a part the amourous flame of the fayre princesse Porphyria, to come againe to the historie of the valiant king of Phez, not long since made a Christi­an miraculously, as yee haue heard before. To let ye vnder­stand withall, according to the truth in writing of him, his genealogie and aduenture, whereof himselfe maketh reci­tall to the holy Hermit and fayre pilgrime, when hee was thereto by them required, beginning in this or the like ma­ner. [Page] It is a long while since, that Artabaz sometime king of Persia, was enamoured on the [...]ayre Quéene Lyxandra, the most fayre and wealthie Ladie in riches and other goods of fortune, that was in those times: for vnder her obedience and Empire, as also her lawes, liued in flourishing prospe­ritie the people of foure opulent kingdomes, which are on the coast of Barbarie, to wit, Phez, Marocco, Thunis, and Alger. But Looue had not touched with selfe same shaft the hart of Lyxandra, as he did the hart of Artabaz, because the more earnestly he loued, the more mortally she hated: [...]y reason, that in the life time of king Brunon her father, hee had dayly vexed him with warres, seeking to depriue him of his kindomes and Signories. For this cause he trauai­led and molested him, as no man in the world could doo the like: so that being ouercome with wea [...]ines of the passed warres, Brunan finished his dayes, after hee had made some treatie or accord of peace with the king of Persia, euen then when first he began to loue the fayre Lyxandra: who hauing auncient mallice engrauen in her heart, continued dayly in resolution to hate him more and more.

Héerevpon, she not willing to graunt marriage with the Persian king, nor to listen his solicitings, requests, and temptations, which stretched so farre as he could deuise, the perticuler discourse whereof were too long to rehearse: hee concluded to winne her by force of armes, and to renew the former warres against her, more sharpe and cruelly then euer hee did, against the deceased king Brunon her father. Which being thus pursued, he brought the vertuous prin­cesse into such necessitie, as hee left her neither kindome, Cittie, towne, nor burrough, place nor Castell, but all was brought vnder his obeysance, and all of them spoyled, the strong Cittie of Phez onely excepted, wherein being con­strained to shut vppe her selfe, he so long time continued the s [...]ege against it, as she was on the pointe of yeelding to his mercie, or else to take away her owne life: but then (by [Page] good hap) a young Knight, so highly accomplished as any o­ther whatsoeuer, arriued on the coast of Barbarie, euen as the Quéene was in this great perplexitie, deuising with her selfe what she were best to doo: he hearing by the com­mon reporte blazed abroad, what harde holde the Queene Lyxandra had against the Persian Tyrant, beeing brought so neere the place, by violence of the windes that droue him on the seas: was willing to succour her, beeing touched partly with pittifull affection, which the goodnes of nature had endned him withall, and partly prouoked on by fayre desire, to make appearance of his hardie valour, the fame whereof alreadie was bru [...]ed through most places in the world: but seeing at this first attempt, that his accesse and entraunce into the Cittie (so narrowly besiedged on eueri [...] side) would prooue very difficult, the gates being ramd vp, and the walles enuironed with Persian men at armes. An indifferent while he deuised with himselfe, by what meane both easily and couertly hee might get entrance. Hauing some space considered heereon, the Historie saith, that he e­specially noted one side of the cittie wall, where the enemies had made a very great breache, to enter thereby on the mo­rowe, vpon the answer Quéene Lyxandra should returne to king Artabaz: and this breach was guarded by certaine ar­med men of the Cittie, while the Quéene assembling her councell, should agree on some expresse resolution of answer concerning her submission to her enemie. The assaylants on the other side of the breache, were making banquets, passing away the time very merrilye, vnder certaine assu­rance, that now the cittie should be yeelded or taken, vppon theyr request within of composition: and well ye wot, that a Cittie comming to composition, is more then halfe taken. This was the cause, that the young knight beeing come neere the breache, and séeing they that kept it were verie carefull of their charge, hee softly whispered with them, to know by what meanes hee might enter the cittie, to haue [Page] some spéech with the queene Lyxandra, concerning matters of importance that would prooue profitable to her, desiring them to let her vnderstand thereof, in that the cause of his comming thither, was earnest desire to imp [...]oy himselfe for her defence in this warre.

The Souldiers made him answere, that one should pre­sently goe do his errand, and the Queene being aduertised heereof, was very glad, knowing well by his renowme and valour, that he was the gentle knight of the Flower, (for so was he called, because as then hee loued a Ladye named Florixa, in regard of whose name, he bare a Uermillion Gil­liflower painted in his sheeld) a man so hardie and valiant, as hee was esteemed beyond all the knights of that time. Héere vpon she gaue comman [...]dement, that he should be let into the Cittie, by a doore that passed from her Castell▪ to the Towne: marrie it was to be doone in the dead time of the night, and that so couertly or closely as might be: thus escaped the knight in, vnseene of the enemie, with his ar­mour and horsse, and one Squire that bare him companie. In breefe, to tell ye what passed betweene them, the quéene letting him vnderstand the occasion of this warre, the suc­cesse thereof, and the extremitie whereinto she was brought farre more in effect then the knight had heard reported: she fell downe on her knées before him, and with the teares trickling downe her chéekes, intreated him, to helpe her both with councell and valiance, promising to deliuer vp all the treasure of her kingdome into his handes, if in this darkenesse he could illuminate them with some meanes, whereby they might escape the tyrants power, that forci­blie sought to make a rape of her, wherevnto before shee would condiscend, shee minded to murther her selfe with hir owne hands.

When the knight of the Flower had noted his words, de­sire of honor prouoked him rather to fight for her, then all her teares, & promised her, with the helpe of God, that dread [Page] of death, should not with-hol [...] him from defence of her case, which according to her recitall, séemed to him most iust and reasonable. In this resolue, he thus aduised the Quéene to answer the Persian tyrant, that shee would not yeelde her selfe to his mercie, before shee made some proofe of the loue he bare her, a [...]d whether it were so effectuall, that he durst on the morrow aduenture the combate, against one knight, man to man, with what armes himselfe would choose. For one should be sent foorth of the Cittie, armed at all pointes, whom if hee could vanquish, shee would condiscend to his will: but if the contrary happened, and he were conquered he should raise his siedge, and depart with his hoste from before the Cittie, deliuering and restoring into her repos­session, all such Citties, townes, borroughes, places, castels, lands and seigniories, as he had taken and ruined, rende­ring and restoring to her likewise, all the treasure, which she spent to maintaine her resistance in warre, the vale we and summe whereof he should credit a [...]d beleeue vpon her owne oath.

If he pleased not to accept this offer▪ she was determined to kill her selfe with her owne handes, rather then shee would graunt what he so earnestly desired. This councell was so agreeable to the Queene, that presently she dispat­ched a messenger to Artabaz, to heare from him some an­swere or resolution. At this message hee did nothing but smile and laugh, in derision and mockerie (as it were) assu­ring himselfe of the victorie: and therefore accepted the Combate, with knightes ordinarie armes of Launce and Swoord: but to make short, the knight of the Flower and hee combatted the next day man to man, in such sort and so long time, as (after a fierce and extreame cruell fight) Arta­baz was vanquished, and yeelded prisoner to the Queene Lyxander: where by meanes of the knight of the Flower, he forcibly was compeld to performe the articles & conuen­tions, sollemnly sworne on either part before the combate. [Page] When Artabaz was enlarged from the Quéenes prison, conquered despight and despa [...]e, hee ranne himselfe vppon his owne sword, to let out the loue he before had conceyued towardes the Quéene Lixandra, who thus was deliuered from miserie and captiuitie, as also the violent furie of so great an enemie. Nor fayled [...]he to thanke the yong knight the mean of her deliuerance, entertayning and feasting him there the space of a whole yere, euen perforce, as it were, causing him to tarrie with her, so that in the end she became enamoured of him, and but that she was a Pagan and hée a Christian, he being lykewise else where vowed, she woulde haue ioyned with him in marriage. And notwithstanding this prohibiting bond, both of the one and other religion, she could not support the extreame flame of this amorous fyre, but being ouercome with incontinencie, was constrayned to yeld her selfe in such sort, as she had knowledge of him al­most against his heart and will. Howe oft this continued I knowe not, but within short time she was conceiued, which the young knight perceiuing, beeing wearie of these amou­rous sportings, which else where ought to be emploied, euen in place where his heart serued, one daie secretly getting from his companie, and being disguised, hee went whether the winde and fortune would conduct him. At his departure she was meruaylously discomforted, causing diligent search to be made for him in all places her lande, as also far and neare to enquire after him, being willing to change her re­ligion and become a Christian, onely to marrie with him, or once more to get him in her custodie. But hearing by credi­ble reporte, that hee was the valiaunt Brandismel, king of great Britaine, who being a young knight, so chaunged his name and disguised his armes, hauing espoused his Florixa, from whome came the king Floridamant, of whome at this daie is held such account: she comforted her selfe so well as she could, and couered her fault so cunningly, that albeit shée was great with child, she married with the worthie Knight [Page] Florinor, at that day king of Armenia, in time of whieh ma­riage, by about seauen [...] after, she was deliuered of a goodly son called Florant, in remembraunce of the knight of the Flower his father. Within thrée years after she had thrée other sons, one named Adylas, the second Phoas, & the third Orontes, all found such hardie & aduenterous knights as euer liued in anie time.

Now because Ferramond was chased forth of Arme­nia, by Clarion brother to Artabaz, who was king after him and father to Mutinel at this time raigning, a long while he vexed him with warres, to recouer home his kingdome a­gayne, but he could not compasse what hee intended, vntyll Florant grew strong and abie to carrie armes, who beeing assisted with a mightie and puissaunt armie, and especially imployed in these affayres, went forward with his charge so effectually, that hee expelled thence Clarion and his people, who grew into such vexation heereat, as séeing he was no longer able to stand agaynst him, he caused him traiterous­ly to be slayne by foure Persians, who counterfeiting to come in embassage to him, with letters pretended from Cla­rion, as he talked alone with them in his chamber, they c [...]u­elly murdered him with certaine pistols, which for the pur­pose they had closely hid vnder theyr mātles. Florinor who tooke himselfe to be his father, was so offended and grieued hereat, as a good father will naturally be for the death of so valiant a sonne, and sent Adylas his other sonne, with a far more great and stately armie, to reuenge the death of Flo­rant his brother, but hee followed his busines so slenderly, that albeit he was a valyant knight, ther he lest his life and his armie discomfited, which went so neere the hart of Flo­rinor, that with conceyt of griefe he dyed, being then aged in yeres, as lykewise was his Quéene Lixandra, who care­fully nourished me vp being the sonne of Florant, and endu­ed with his name, as also young Adylas, bearing likewise name after his slaine father. In this time or soone after the [Page] death of Florinor, Phoaz and Orantes, seeking after ad­uentures as knigh [...]es arrant, prickt forward with desire of fame and honour, were slayne in two seuerall encounters by king Floridamant, beeing then as they were, a young knight, and following the same affayres. Eache of them left a sonne behinde them bearing their owne names, who lykewise remayned in the charge and kéeping of Queene Lixandra our grand-mother, shee verie carefully nourished and brought vs vp, especially me, to whome verie often shée discoursed these accidents: and litle before her death (which rather was through age than anie other extremitie) she par­ted and diu [...]ded the kingdomes betwéene vs, appoynting to one the realme of Phez. Adylas, Phaos, and Orontes, my cou­sins, had giuen to them the three other seigniories, to witte, Morocco, Thunis and Alger, wherewith wee all haue beene well contented, without quarrelling or falling at debate for anie cause whatsoeuer.

But we being as yet verie young, were assayled again by Mutinel the king of Persia, in reuenge of Artabaz death his predecessor, and would haue depriued vs againe of our kingdomes: but we so well defended our selues, as he coulde not altogether defeate vs of our right, but in regarde of our ouer young yeres, we promised him certayne yerely tribute, and obeisance or homage, when he woulde commaund vs to haue it done, which euer since we haue dayly continued, and in consequence hereof, being charged by him to arme them­selues agaynst the king of great Britaine, in companie of king Brandissant and his brethren, to ruinate and destroie all christendome together, wee entered on the seas with a goodly great armie thitherward, and sayling merrily cer­tayne daies in our voiage, we were surprized with a greate tempest, which separated vs one from another, in such sort, as I know not what is become of the rest. Well wot I, that my ship was wrackte against a huge rocke, and none saued aliue of all that were with me but my selfe alone. [Page] [...] [Page] [...]

[Page] Since when, hauing recouered horse and armour, such as by fortune I brought with me into the forrest of great aduen­tures, wher méeting a proud and arrogant knight, that chal­lenged all passengers to combate with him, promising for prize of theyr victorie a goodly horse, a fayre armour, and a golden cup of inestimable value: desirous to gain these thrée if I could, I entered the combat with him, and all daie wee fought together, without apparance of victorie on either side till the verie declining of the daie, when wee were euen on the point to knowe where the lot woulde fall, when another knight no lesse valiant than proud, came to trouble our in­tent, very suriously assayling vs both. In which sirange con­flict it chanced that this curteous Lord came, and seeing our confused order of fighting, behelde howe I was wounded, of which hurts, through the mighty and supreame diuine ver­tue, I am now healed.

Thus good Father, haue I fully sat [...]sf [...]ed your request, if ye will command me anie other seruice, assure your selfe I will doe it verie gladly. Thus king Florent of Phez en­ded his discourse, when the olde hermite began an excellent exhortation to confirme him soundly in the christian fayth, charging him to liue and die in defence thereof, and not to persecute it as before he had done. Taking occasion by the example of Saint Paul, to incite him forward to his dutie, according as he procéeded in Gods soruice after hee was so diuinely called. When he had finished his sermon, wher with the king was highly satiffied and contented, after hee hadde humbly thanked him for so great good receiued, he departed in companie of the faire pilgrime, with him to go visite the holy sepulchre of Iesus Christ: where what happened to them afterward, you shal reade at large in the third volume of this worthie historie, which (if God permit) you shal see verie shortly.